


Stained Glass

by situationnormal



Category: K-pop, Shinhwa
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2487317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/situationnormal/pseuds/situationnormal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Ricsyung.  They met in church. Both of them were running late that Sunday morning, and had to stand against the back wall because all of the pews were full. The fourth or fifth time they bumped elbows, Eric had laughed, then leaned over to whisper in Hyesung's ear: "Seems like our arms are attracted to each other."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what possessed me to write a Ricsyung church AU, especially one so weird in tone, but I had to? I'll hopefully come back to this sooner rather than later. Let me know what you think?

They met in church.

Both of them were running late that Sunday morning, and had to stand against the back wall because all of the pews were full. The fourth or fifth time they bumped elbows, Eric had laughed, then leaned over to whisper in Hyesung’s ear.

“Seems like our arms are attracted to each other.”

Somehow they ended up holding hands. Their fingers seemed attracted, too.

Eric wasn’t really religious, but while he was in town visiting his parents, they made him show up for church—at least, that’s what he told Hyesung over lunch that afternoon. He said they probably wouldn’t be happy that he hadn’t stayed to talk to them after the service, but he didn’t really care. He only needed a place to stay for a couple more weeks, and they wouldn’t kick him out. He was their only son.

Hyesung didn’t normally go to church, but that morning he had something he needed to pray for, and he needed the stained glass and the sermon to give him the confidence. He had gone over the prayer a thousand times, in his head, while a perfect stranger had held his hand. It felt like god was actually listening.

They had walked out to the parking lot together, as soon as the sermon ended—ditching the rest of the service, and found that they both smoked the same brand of cigarettes. They had shared one, then another, before walking to their cars and realizing they were parked next to each other. They both said they were hungry at the same time.

Eric had put his feet up on the dash of Hyesung’s car, and Hyesung thought it was strange that he didn’t mind at all. He could hardly keep his eyes on the road because he was too busy glancing at his passenger. Eric leaned his head out of the window like a puppy, letting his suit collar flap in the breeze. Hyesung wasn’t dressed as nicely, and felt shabby next to someone so handsome. When they were about to get out of the car, Eric had touched his cheek suddenly and smiled—but hadn’t said anything. It made Hyesung feel more at ease, somehow, even though he normally didn’t like being touched—especially not by strangers.

They both drank their coffee black, but Hyesung ordered pancakes and drowned them in syrup. Eric had an omelet and didn’t take his eyes off of Hyesung the entire time he ate. He talked about himself so easily, almost as if his own life didn’t belong to him, and was nothing personal. Hyesung didn’t say much, but tried to remember every word he said.

When they got back in the car, Hyesung had closed the distance between them, first, and let Eric taste the syrup and the black coffee. He had never kissed anyone first before, but he had needed to kiss Eric so badly. He felt safe, somehow, with the tinted windows and the parking garage as protection. And Eric made him feel safe, too, although he hardly knew him.

Eric had kissed back eagerly, but more gently than he wanted, like he was afraid to break him. Hyesung wanted more force—to feel him against his entire body at once. He broke the kiss to bite Eric’s bottom lip and Eric had laughed, then pulled away completely.

“Do you live with your parents?”

“No.”

“Roommates?”

“No.” Hyesung was breathless and shaking. He didn’t want to talk. Especially not about all of the things that had led up to him living in his very own shithole apartment.

“Can we go to your place now?”

Hyesung had heard almost those same words before, but they never seemed more inviting. He had driven back to his apartment so calmly he was surprised with himself, and Eric had held his hand, again, the entire way.

Hyesung wanted to unbuckle Eric’s seatbelt himself, he was moving so slowly, but he waited. The elevator was broken, as per usual, and they had to climb the stairs. Eric was even more out of shape than he was, for someone who looked so good in a suit—must have been the cigarettes.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Eric had taken Hyesung’s face in his hands and smiled, again—before kissing him. He didn’t even take a few seconds to look around the apartment. Eric’s gorgeous suit was on the floor before they ever made it to Hyesung’s twin bed.

It wasn’t the first time for either of them, but Hyesung thought it felt different. He didn’t care about the noises he made, or how it might sound to the neighbors, or whether Eric would think he was too loud. Eric didn’t seem to mind when he dug his fingers into his back, and he didn’t mind when Eric bit his shoulder, probably hard enough to bruise.

He had never fallen asleep after sex before—he was always too alert—but next to Eric, covered in icy sweat—he had forgotten to turn his electric heater on, he felt his eyelids getting heavy. He couldn’t even summon up the energy to shower. Eric was half on top of him—a heavy, comfortable weight—there was no room for both of them, otherwise.

“Do you mind if I sleep for a while?” Eric asked.

“Go ahead,” Hyesung said.

When they woke up, it was already dark outside. Eric had 30 missed calls, but neither of them had heard his phone ring. Hyesung didn’t even have a single text message.

“I should go,” Eric said, pulling on his suit again.

“Let me get my keys,” Hyesung said, trying to get up from the bed. Eric had smiled and pushed him back again, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw.

“I’ll take the bus. My parents might believe I was at church this morning if they see my car there.”

Hyesung hadn’t responded, but he felt vaguely sad and didn’t know why. Eric didn’t give him his number before he left—just thanked him for the ride as he pulled on his shoes, and walked out of the door.

Hyesung wanted to follow him to the stairs, at least, but didn’t want to act like it mattered.

 

* * *

 

 

The next week, Hyesung wondered if he should go to church again. He’d hardly spoken to another person all week, other than professors and cashiers, but if Eric wasn’t there he thought he’d feel even lonelier. He was running late again when he finally showed up, but he half hoped that he’d find Eric standing next to the wall.

The other man wasn’t there, and he was disappointed. He felt like he probably needed the sermon, but couldn’t focus. As soon as it ended, a man stood up from a spot in one of the pews, and hurried out, head bowed and a pack of cigarettes already clutched in his hand. Their eyes met as Eric was walking out of the door, and Hyesung felt himself smile even though he didn’t want to.

“Hyesung-ie,” Eric said, softer than any grown man’s voice had any right to be. “Want a cigarette?”

This time, it was Hyesung who held his hand first, and they shared a cigarette again before Eric pulled him back into the church, and into one of the conference rooms. Eric was illuminated in the light from the single stained glass window as he hovered over Hyesung. He looked like an abstract painting, and even though the light was bright, Hyesung didn’t want to shut his eyes.

This time, he tried not to make noise, even though the door was locked, and even though Eric said he didn’t give a fuck if anyone heard them or not.

This time, neither of them felt sleepy after. Eric laughed a little and washed them both off with a bottle of water and some tissues they found on the conference table. The bench had a soft, fabric cushion—some weird almost-velvet—and the stains wouldn’t come out. Hyesung had even laughed, imagining what everyone would think, but he felt his face burning when Eric said it probably wasn’t the use god had intended.

He kissed Hyesung’s shoulder through his dress shirt, and left a wet patch that clung to his skin. The bruise he’d left the Sunday before still hadn’t faded away entirely, and it ached a little when his mouth touched it—as if it was greeting him.

“Will you be here next week?” Eric asked, as he unlocked the door.

Hyesung was disappointed. He didn’t want to wait until next week.

“Probably,” he said, even though he knew he wouldn’t miss the chance to potentially see Eric again.

“I’ll probably see you, then,” Eric responded, pulling his cigarettes out again and throwing one to Hyesung. “Looks like the service is over. I should find my parents. They drove me this time so I couldn’t slip away.”

All week, the more the bruise on his shoulder faded, the lonelier Hyesung felt.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hyesung-ie,” he heard, before he’d even taken a step inside the church. Eric was waiting near the entrance, wearing a leather jacket and dark jeans—not his usual Sunday attire. “Do you think god can let you off this week?”

“If I pray hard enough,” Hyesung joked, fighting back a smile as he walked closer.

“Definitely pray about it later, then. Want to get breakfast? I’m starving,” Eric took a step forward and rubbed Hyesung’s hair, almost affectionately. He ignored the stares from the ladies walking in through the door they stood next to, but Hyesung felt goosebumps cover his body.

“Sure. I haven’t eaten,” Hyesung agreed, and his stomach did feel hollow, all of a sudden. He didn’t lean into Eric’s touch, even though he wanted to. He didn’t like the way the ladies were looking at them. But Eric dropped his hand a little and patted his cheek.

“Let’s go, then.”

Eric drove this time, and Hyesung still couldn’t take his eyes off of him—even though he tried. He tried to look at the buildings they were passing, or inspect Eric’s car more closely, but he couldn’t focus on anything but Eric, and the way he gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white—the way curse words fell out of his mouth, so softly they were barely audible, every time someone pulled out in front of him too slowly.

Hyesung wanted to say something to fill the silence, because Eric didn’t seem to want to talk, himself, but he found that he had nothing to say that wouldn’t make things awkward.

Finally, they reached the same parking garage, next to the same diner they’d eaten at two weeks before, and Eric had put the car in park, then turned and winked at him—catching him staring. Rather than feel flustered and embarrassed, Hyesung smiled back and let Eric brush his fingers with his own.

“Do you mind eating here again? I want something with syrup, for some reason,” Eric said, fingers trailing quickly from spot to spot on Hyesung’s arms and torso, finally stopping at his ear, where Eric brushed his fingers over the same spot until Hyesung thought he would go crazy.

“I don’t mind,” he said, voice much too soft.

“Let’s eat,” Eric said, smiling back.

Hyesung wanted to hold Eric’s hand again. He wasn’t interested in his chocolate chip pancakes, and the beautiful waitress who kept flirting with Eric hardly concerned him—Eric didn’t even seem to notice her—he just wanted Eric to be touching him. But Eric never placed his hand on the table and made it easy, so Hyesung just kept eating, in silence.

Eric said he wanted something with syrup, but he ordered bacon, eggs, and toast, and never touched the pitcher. He didn’t talk as much this time, just kept staring at his plate, eating very slowly.

“So, what do you do all week, when you’re not in church?” he asked, finally, looking up from his plate to make eye contact and grinning at the way Hyesung’s mouth was full with the pancakes.

He swallowed too much at once, and almost choked, taking a big gulp of coffee before answering.

“Nothing. I go to school.”

“School, huh? You don’t work?” Eric asked, looking down at his plate again, and picking at his scrambled eggs.

“No.”

“But you live on your own?”

“Yes. My parents pay for the apartment and I pay the utilities with financial aid,” Hyesung said, feeling very uncomfortable for the first time, being around Eric. He tried to shovel another forkful of pancakes into his mouth, but Eric spoke first.

“They don’t live around here?”

“No…they do,” Hyesung said, putting his fork down, and feeling like he might cry. Somehow, he wanted Eric to touch him even more desperately. He wanted to feel the touch that calmed his nerves, even as it sped up his heartbeat.

“But you don’t live with them?”

Hyesung glanced at Eric, quickly, seeing he had put his fork down, too.

“They’d rather pay for my apartment. Are you finished?” he said, looking around for the waitress.

“They don’t want you to live with them?” Eric asked, picking up his fork again and spearing a piece of toast. Hyesung was distracted for a second—he’d never seen anyone attempt to eat toast with a fork before.

“It’s a long story,” Hyesung said, smiling grimly and scratching the back of his head. Eric didn’t smile back.

“Did they kick you out because…"

“Yes,” Hyesung answered quickly. For some reason, he didn’t want Eric to talk about it. Not in the diner, which was practically empty—most of the regulars were probably still in church.

“Let’s go, if you’re finished eating,” Eric said, almost warmly, and dropped some money on the table. As they walked out of the door, Hyesung worked up the courage to grab his hand, and Eric squeezed his fingers but didn’t smile.

Hyesung wanted as much physical contact as possible when they reached the car, but Eric still wasn’t done talking. He put the key in the ignition, and didn’t let Hyesung make a move before starting to drive.

“Do you have many friends?” he asked.

“I have some. Not that many,” Hyesung said, disappointment tightening his chest as he realized Eric wasn’t driving toward his apartment.

“Why is that?” Eric turned the radio off, as if he was only interested in hearing Hyesung speak, and nothing else.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m not that friendly,” Hyesung responded, starting to feel annoyed at all of the questions, and with what looked like the route back to the church and Hyesung’s car.

“That’s not true,” Eric said.

“How do you know if it’s true?” Hyesung asked, pulling away from Eric’s hand, which tried to touch his knee. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” Eric responded, easily enough, and putting his hand back on the steering wheel. “But everyone who sees you falls in love with you, so it’s hard to believe you don’t have friends.”

Hyesung didn’t respond, not sure what Eric meant by that, or what he wanted Eric to mean by it.

After a small silence, Eric continued: “The waitress today fell for you. The ladies at church can’t take their eyes off of you.”

“That’s not…” Hyesung said, turning to see Eric’s expression, in spite of himself. Eric, however, was looking at the road, not betraying any emotion.

“Don’t you feel lonely?” Eric asked, finally, realizing Hyesung wasn’t going to speak again until spoken to.

Hyesung didn’t respond for a long time—not until Eric was turning into the parking lot.

“Yes,” he whispered, not looking at the other man. “Don’t you?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

At Hyesung’s question, Eric had only shrugged, and smiled slightly. Hyesung didn’t want to be weak—didn’t want to need Eric to touch him again, so when the car stopped, he had unbuckled his seatbelt quickly and climbed out.  
  
“Goodbye, Hyesung-ie,” Eric said, as he closed the door. Hyesung wouldn’t let himself look back, even though Eric’s car was still in the same spot as he left the parking lot.  
  
That night, Hyesung drank. He had class the next morning, but he didn’t care. He wanted to forget about Eric and how badly he wanted to feel the other man’s hands on him, how badly he wanted to kiss him, how badly he wanted to hold his hand and share a cigarette. Particularly, he wanted to forget about how scared he had been of Eric’s questions. The comfort of his touch, and the way it eased Hyesung’s loneliness meant too much to him to give it up, and he didn’t want to let it go because he was so afraid.  
  
He drank vodka, at first. There was a little left in a bottle in his freezer. But when he ran out, he could still hear Eric’s voice in his head—the questions he had asked, and the way he said his name.  
  
After a couple of beers, he could feel Eric’s touch on his skin, and how much he had missed it that morning, and the whole week before. The feeling took over his entire body, until he didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the longing that made him so dizzy.  
  
He woke up sweating, despite the cold. His head throbbed, and his first thought was of Eric.  
  


* * *

  
All week, he hated himself for not staying in the car and kissing the other man until the questions had stopped. He tortured himself, wondering if Eric would even bother showing up at church again that Sunday.  
  
On Tuesday, his professors noted his inattention in class. Even the scholarship he needed to hold onto couldn’t help him focus.  
  
On Wednesday, when he couldn’t stand the thoughts anymore, he went to a bar near his apartment even though he only felt safe drinking alone. He wanted to go home with someone, and he had a handful of offers, but none of them could compare to Eric, and the way his entire body reacted to his touch. So he went home alone, after all—tipsy, and not caring how dangerous it was in his neighborhood after dark.  
  
The next morning, he wondered how he even made it home, but he was grateful, in the daylight, that he woke up in his own bed instead of someone else’s.  
  
On Friday, the longing had turned into an aching need. He would answer questions, if he had to. He would even apologize for his behavior the week before, if that’s what it took.  
  
On Saturday, he wondered if he had the confidence to show up at church at all.  
  
On Sunday morning, he woke up late. He had been up for most of the night, and only fell asleep as the sun was rising. He wore the same outfit he’d worn the week before—a collared white shirt with a vest and matching gray slacks. He was in such a hurry, he forgot his coat.  
  
In the parking lot, he wondered if he should go inside at all. He was later, even, than usual, and afraid that Eric wouldn’t be there. More than that, he was afraid that Eric would push him away for his behavior the week before—a thought that he couldn’t stand. He thought it would be better to never see him again, than to have him act coldly toward him.  
  
In the end, the weather drove him inside. He didn’t see Eric’s car in the parking lot, but tried to convince himself that he had come with his parents again, or that he had missed it while rushing in from the cold. Eric wasn’t standing against the wall, either, but if he was there with his parents, that made sense. Hyesung tried to look around the room, and find the back of Eric’s head in the crowd, but there were too many people. He couldn’t focus on anything the pastor said.  
  
When the sermon ended, no one left the pews. Hyesung continued to stand against the wall until the choir filed to the front, and then he slipped out of the door.  
  
It had been so long since he last cried, he wasn’t sure what was happening at first when his eyes began to sting. He dropped into one of the chairs in the entry hall, and put his face in his hands, massaging his forehead and trying to stop the tears from falling. He didn’t know why he felt like crying, so suddenly, when he had managed to hold himself together all week, but his loneliness had only intensified in the chapel, surrounded by so many people and no familiar faces.  
  
“Hyesung-ie? Are you OK?”  
  
Rather than dry up his tears, hearing Eric’s voice made them fall faster.  
  
“Hey,” Eric said, kneeling in front of him, and touching his knee with one hand and one of his wrists with the other. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Hyesung shook his head, palms pressed against his eyes, and wouldn’t let Eric pull his hands away from his face. He was embarrassed, and ashamed of himself—ashamed for crying, and ashamed for being so relieved that Eric was there.  
  
“Come on; let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll get you some water,” Eric said, after a minute. His thumb rubbed small circles on Hyesung’s wrist, and Hyesung, who had never been a hugger, wanted to feel his arms around his waist. After a minute, he nodded, and let Eric pull him to his feet. The tears had stopped, and Eric didn’t comment on his bloodshot eyes as he led him to the kitchen.  
  
“Do you want some tea, instead?” Eric asked, indicating the cabinets behind him. Hyesung nodded, and watched as Eric busied himself boiling water and finding some mugs. He seemed to know the contents of the kitchen very well, and Hyesung wondered why, but didn’t trust his voice enough to ask.  
  
“Thank you,” Hyesung said, accepting a mug when Eric had finished. His voice didn’t waver, and he was grateful for at least that small favor.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Eric said, passing him the sugar and taking a sip of his own tea, without. Hyesung avoided eye contact as he warmed his hands on the mug, although he could feel Eric watching him.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said, after a while, still not looking up.  
  
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Eric asked. He placed his mug on the counter between them, and watched Hyesung take a sip of his tea. Hyesung shook his head in response and shrugged, looking at Eric’s tea, and not at him.  
  
“Hyesung,” Eric said, walking around the counter and taking the mug out of his hands—placing it next to his own on the counter. He sighed, and pulled Hyesung’s face into his chest, arms wrapped around him so lightly that if Hyesung hadn’t been so aware of every inch of Eric, he might not have felt them at all. After a while, Hyesung returned the hug, stepping off of the stool he had been sitting on, and pulling them closer together. Eric laughed into his hair.  
  
“Don’t be sorry, whatever it is.”  
  
Hyesung just shook his head again, not wanting to let go of Eric long enough to speak. He tightened his arms around the other man’s waist, and Eric pressed one of his hands to the small of Hyesung’s back, stroking the back of his head with the other.  
  
After a minute, Hyesung pulled away, only to close the distance again, kissing Eric as greedily as he had that first morning in the car. Eric responded the same way—too gently—and Hyesung turned them around, pressing Eric against the counter.  
  
“I want you,” he whispered, mouth against the other man’s ear. Eric didn’t answer with words, but wrapped his fingers in the chain of the cross Hyesung wore on his belt loops, pulling him into the seminary room off of the kitchen.  
  
Any fleeting thoughts of punishing Eric for making him uncomfortable the week before had vanished when he had touched Hyesung’s knee back in the entry hall, and holding back was the furthest thing from his mind as he dismantled Eric’s expensive suit in front of a shelf full of seminary workbooks.  
  
Eric, who had not been very vocal the first two times, moaned as Hyesung backed him into the bookshelf, unbuckling his belt as he kissed his throat, then his chest. Hyesung wasn’t in control of himself anymore. He could only focus on the plethora of sensations, and how badly he wanted to feel his own skin against Eric’s.  
  


* * *

  
The floor was cold under him, and Hyesung’s thoughts drifted vaguely to how much he regretted not bringing a jacket. Eric was warm, though—his body pressed against Hyesung’s, letting the other man use his arm as a pillow. It was probably dangerous to stay any longer than they had to, but Hyesung couldn’t find it in himself to care and neither, apparently, could Eric.  
  
Eric kissed his shoulder, lazily, and Hyesung felt disappointed that the spot didn’t ache anymore when his lips touched it.  
  
“The bruise is gone, isn’t it?” he asked.  
  
“Yes. It’s gone. Sorry about that, by the way,” Eric answered, kissing the same spot again, more lightly.  
  
“Don’t be sorry,” Hyesung said, echoing Eric’s words from earlier in the kitchen.  
  
Neither of them said anything for a couple of minutes, but Hyesung could hear voices outside—the service must have ended. He pulled away from Eric, reluctantly, and began to collect the articles of clothing they had littered the room with. As he buttoned his shirt, he looked up to see Eric staring at him. He was holding his slacks in his hands, but didn’t seem to be that interested in putting them on.  
  
“Are you going to tell me why you were crying?” he asked. Hyesung thought about making up some excuse, or even lying and saying he hadn’t been, but instead he shook his head again.  
  
“No.”  
  
Eric didn’t say anything else, just started pulling on his clothes. Hyesung watched him, feeling sorry, again, that he wasn’t able to answer Eric’s questions.  
  
“I’ll go out first,” Eric said, adjusting his tie. “You wait for a while, so if there’s anyone out there I can distract them, OK?”  
  
Hyesung didn’t know why he expected Eric to give him his number, or ask to see him on any day other than Sunday, but every time the opportunity presented itself, then slipped away, it hurt worse than the times before.  
  
“OK?” Eric repeated, frowning at him slightly, and playing with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He didn’t offer one to Hyesung.  
  
“Yeah,” Hyesung responded, finally, pulling on his shoes.  
  
Eric slipped out of the door, without saying anything else, and Hyesung hated himself for wanting to cry again. The voices outside had died down, and things were quiet, leaving him to feel sorry for himself.  
  
At least, until he heard raised voices—one of them Eric’s. At first, he thought about sitting still and waiting—Eric said he would distract anyone who was out there, so maybe it was just a diversion tactic. But he sounded so angry, Hyesung was sure he wasn’t acting. He cracked the door open a bit, and immediately saw Eric, whose back was turned, standing in front of the kitchen entrance they’d used earlier. He was talking to an older, shorter, man, wearing a dark suit. Hyesung couldn’t see his face over Eric’s shoulder—only the top of his head, and the sleeve of his jacket.  
  
“We told you that if you wanted to stay with us, you needed to come to church. We didn’t mean that you should spend the morning in the seminary room smoking cigarettes,” the older man—Eric’s father—was saying.  
  
“I wasn’t smoking cigarettes,” Eric said. His voice was no longer raised, and Hyesung could hardly hear him, even from the short distance. No one else seemed to be around, and Hyesung considered trying to slip out of the other exit, but with Eric’s dad facing his direction, it seemed risky—plus, he wanted to hear their conversation.  
  
“Whatever you were doing, you shouldn’t have been. You jumped up in the middle of a song like you’d been scalded. Your mother was worried about you,” Eric’s father used a softer tone, too, when he talked about his wife.  
  
“Nicotine addiction,” Eric said, obviously trying to make his father laugh, and failing.  
  
“I thought you said you weren’t smoking,” his father responded, missing the joke.  
  
“I smoked before I went to the seminary room. If you want people to come to church, maybe the service should be shorter. It’s hard to make it through the whole thing without a cigarette,” Eric complained, taking a step forward and trying to steer his father back into the entry hall, but the other man didn’t move.  
  
Hyesung wondered, if he had stayed inside through the first song, if he would have seen Eric standing up and avoided the whole scene in the entry hall, and his face burned in embarrassment.  
  
“The service isn’t designed with your bad habits in mind.”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“Eric,” his father said, voice losing its softness. “From now on, you’re here to go to church. I’m tired of talking about this. No more disappearing halfway through the service.”  
  
“Dad, I’m twenty-two years old,” Eric said, voice even. “I’m only doing this to make mom happy—not because you’re telling me to.”  
  
“Eric!” The older man yelled, for the first time, and Hyesung and Eric both flinched in surprise. “We’re asking you to do this for you. We’re asking you to go back to school for you. Not for me, and not for your mother.”  
  
“I’m not going back to school,” Eric said. He sounded so exhausted, Hyesung found it difficult to stand there, watching him, and not try to comfort him in some way.  
  
“I’m not asking you to, anymore. I’m telling you you’re going to,” his father said, grabbing Eric’s wrist—not too hard, but forcefully enough that Hyesung pushed the seminary door open, terrified.  
  
Eric turned around at the noise, and for the first time Hyesung saw his father’s face—he should have recognized the voice—he’d heard his sermons on and off for years, after all. For a few moments, no one said anything. The pastor still held his son’s wrist in his hand, even as he stared at Hyesung.  
  
“I see,” he said, breaking the silence first, and looking at Hyesung rather coldly.  
  
“Hyesung-ie,” Eric said, pulling out of his father’s grip, but not stepping forward.  
  
“I’m sorry, but I…” Hyesung said, not sure whether he was apologizing to Eric or his father.  
  
“Your mother’s waiting in the car. It would be better if you and I talked about this later.” Eric’s father looked between the two younger men once, quickly, and walked back out into the entry hall.  
  
“Eric,” Hyesung said, taking a step forward—not sure what to do or say.  
  
“It’s OK. He’s not going to hit me or anything,” Eric responded, smiling. “He’s a pastor, and it seems like god frowns on that type of thing.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me your father was the pastor here?” Hyesung asked, taking another step forward, even as Eric turned away from him.  
  
“There are a lot of things we haven’t told each other,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll be here next week. It seems like I’ve worn out my welcome at my parents’ house.”  
  
Eric walked out of the door without looking at Hyesung again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of those chapters that's necessary to move the plot forward, so I hope you'll stick with me. I'll probably post the 4th chapter later this week, as well ^^

Every time Hyesung thought about going to church again the anxiety was so overwhelming he became physically ill. He had to run out of class so many times to be sick that his professors told him it would be all right to stay home for a couple of days. Stomach cramps, night sweats, and loneliness made it hard to get out of bed, but Hyesung’s scholarship paid his electric bill, and the cold was the only thing that plagued him as much as Eric turning his back and walking away.

It was exam season, which seemed to help a little in keeping some of his terrible thoughts at bay during the daylight hours. At least a few times a day, though, he thought of what Eric had said—“there are a lot of things we haven’t told each other”—and could feel his chest tightening until he thought he would die. He knew it was his fault—again, he’d pushed someone away because he couldn’t trust anyone enough to open up—but the knowledge only made it hurt worse.

Even in his nightmares, Eric turned away from him. Some of them were stupid—he was in grade school again, and he needed a pencil, but Eric ignored him when he asked. And some were melodramatic—he had been in a car accident, and was bleeding out, but Eric said there was nothing he could do.

The worst of them, though, was on Wednesday night when he dreamed that he told Eric he loved him.

They were surrounded by roses and lit candles, and Hyesung was filled with a sense of peace. Even as he said the words, “I love you,” he felt calm and confident. He knew, somehow Eric would say them back.

But, instead, the other man looked at him and smiled, shaking his head.

“No, Hyesung, you don’t,” Eric said.

“I do,” the Hyesung in the dream had insisted. But Eric had just continued smiling as he’d begun to walk away.

“I don’t want you,” he said, as he walked out of the door.

When Hyesung called out to him, he slammed it in his face.

Hyesung had been afraid to sleep for the rest of that night and the next—not that his thoughts while awake were any better.

In spite of all of that, though, he might have still decided to go to church on Sunday, just in case Eric was there, and could be forgiving, but Hyesung knew he couldn’t face the pastor. The way he’d looked at him—the way his parents looked at him, the way everyone looked at him—was too much to handle. If he’d been able to stay in his apartment for the rest of his life, and hide from everyone, he would have.

But he had to go to school to keep his heat on, and he had to keep his heat on to live—no matter how bad things were, he still wanted to live. So on Friday morning, he packed his bag and went to his group project meeting.

He’d barely slept for two nights, but if his group members noticed, they didn’t say anything. There were four of them, besides Hyesung. Two freshmen—Hyesung should have taken chemistry as a freshman, as well, but he had thought he would put it off until it stressed him out a little less, not realizing things would only get worse—and two upperclassmen, like Hyesung.

All of his groupmates were guys, which made Hyesung very uncomfortable. Normally, he stayed away from his male classmates, and they stayed away from Hyesung. Not that the girls were much better, but at least they didn’t threaten him, physically—at least not often. But of his groupmates, the two upperclassmen—Minwoo and Dongwan—seemed fairly nice. Or, at least, they were more focused on their project than bothering Hyesung. He couldn’t say the same for the freshmen.

“Are you going to say anything at all? We introduced ourselves, so you should say something,” one of the guys said, snapping his fingers in front of Hyesung’s face.

Hyesung nodded, and looked down at the floor.

“I’m…Hyesung,” he said, not looking up.

“You should look at people when you speak,” the other guy said, taking a step closer.

“Hey, he’s an upperclassman. Who are you to tell him what to do?” one of the older boys—Hyesung thought it was Minwoo, but was too nervous to look up—said. “Come on, let’s sit down and start working. Hyesung, sit over here.” He indicated the chair on his left.

“He doesn’t act like an upperclassman,” one of the freshmen said. “That’s the first time I’ve heard him speak all semester. I didn’t know he could even open his mouth.”

“I think he can open it for other stuff,” the other boy responded, nudging his classmate in the ribs.

“If you don’t shut up, we’re not putting your names on this project and you can take chemistry again next semester,” Dongwan said, pointing his pencil at the freshmen in a way that would have been funny if he hadn’t had the muscles to make it look threatening.

The boys nodded, but continued to whisper snide comments to each other as they unpacked their bags—as if everyone else couldn’t hear them. Hyesung’s heart was racing, and the lack of sleep on top of the anxiety was making him feel lightheaded.

“You OK?” Dongwan asked, putting his hand on Hyesung’s elbow. Hyesung jerked back, almost knocking Minwoo’s laptop off of the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry,” he said, half-turning to Minwoo and nodding, but not meeting his gaze.

“It’s OK,” Minwoo said, smiling at him. Hyesung turned away again, quickly.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You look like you’re not feeling very well. I have some herbal medicines in my bag. I can give you some, if you like,” Dongwan continued, unzipping his bag as he spoke.

“Dongwan, leave the poor guy alone. That stuff is terrible. Why don’t you just get him a cup of coffee?” Minwoo asked, beginning to type something on his laptop.

“You want some coffee?” Dongwan asked, already standing up.

“No. I’m fine,” Hyesung insisted, unable to raise his voice very much, and too afraid to grab Dongwan’s arm and stop him from walking away.

“I’ll be right back. Is an Americano OK, Hyesung? How about you, Minwoo, Americano?” Minwoo nodded, but Hyesung couldn’t make his body or mouth move at all.

“Don’t worry about us,” one of the freshmen said, to Dongwan’s retreating back, “just keep jerking each other off or whatever it is you’re doing.”

Minwoo pushed his laptop screen down so he could take a long look at the boy across the table.

“You jealous? You want us to jerk you off?”

“Gross. What’s wrong with you guys?” the freshman who’d made the comment responded.

Minwoo paused for a moment, and looked at both of the freshmen in turn, as if he were appraising them. After a while, he smiled, shaking his head.

“I don’t think I want you working in our group, anymore. I’ll let the professor know you didn’t contribute,” Minwoo said, lifting his screen again.

“You can’t make us go. We’re part of your group,” the other boy protested.

“You should go while Minwoo is being nice,” Dongwan said, quickly returning with a tray of Americanos from the library’s coffee shop. “Besides, I’m your RA, remember? You don’t want to put me in a bad mood so early in the morning.”

The boys looked at each other, for a moment, and then began to pack their bags. Hyesung stared down at his hands—still not able to say anything. His heart was racing, and he wanted to leave, too, but he was more afraid to walk out with them than to stay with Dongwan and Minwoo.

“You can drink the coffee, you know. Dongwan doesn’t normally waste a good Americano on poisoning people,” Minwoo said, smiling at Hyesung. Hyesung nodded, but didn’t take a coffee off of the tray in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re OK? Don’t worry about those two. They’re not going to hurt you,” Dongwan said, moving to the other side of the table and spreading out across two chairs with his own coffee.

“They’re stupid, but they’re not stupid enough to do anything like that,” Minwoo said, taking a sip of his Americano and frowning at Dongwan after tasting it.

“Even if they were, they’d be sorry. Hyesung was in my freshman PE class. He kicked my ass during taekwondo, so I’m pretty sure he can take them,” Dongwan said, looking up from his chemistry textbook to smile at Hyesung, who looked away.

“Oh really? I guess looks really are deceiving, then,” Minwoo responded, taking Dongwan’s Americano and switching it with his own. “Dongwan looks like he could kill you with his bare hands, but he has my grandmother’s hand-eye coordination.”

“Shut up, Minwoo, Hyesung doesn’t think you’re funny,” Dongwan said, still smiling in spite of what he was saying.

“Yeah, I know. Let’s start working on this project. Drink your coffee before the ice melts—both of you.”

* * *

The project took all morning, and most of the afternoon. By the time Hyesung got home, all he was capable of was collapsing on his bed. He had accepted the coffee, after being persuaded by Dongwan and Minwoo, but the caffeine on top of his empty stomach and lack of sleep had made him feel even worse. In addition to everything else, Hyesung was so unused to people treating him decently that Minwoo and Dongwan’s behavior had made him nervous and jumpy. He was far more used to people like the freshmen in his group, who made fun of him, and even threatened him.

He pulled the comforter up to his chin, and wondered if it would be all right to turn up the heat a little, until his thoughts went to how nice it would be to have Eric’s warmth curled around him. He felt tears stinging his eyes again—it was the first time he’d had a chance to think about Eric all day. He had almost forgotten, for a while, how lonely he was, and how he wouldn’t be able to see the other man that Sunday. He rolled over on his side, and wrapped his arms and legs around one of his pillows, letting himself cry until it was soaked and he was too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep.

* * *

 When Hyesung finally woke up, it was Saturday evening. He had been asleep for sixteen hours, and judging by how sore every part of his body was, he had been in almost the same position the entire time. Despite how long he had been asleep, when he looked in the mirror he saw that his eyes were still red and puffy, as if he had just finished crying. His dark circles were still there, too, and the light stubble on his face made him look even more hideous.

He turned on his shower, and sat down in the floor, resting his face on his knees and letting the water run until it turned cold. He continued to sit there, shaking, until he thought his body would break apart from the temperature. As he dried off, he noted that now, with blue lips and chattering teeth, he looked even worse.

He went out like that, anyway. There was no food in the house, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Even at the convenience store near his house, the cashier stared at him, open-mouthed, as he paid for his items.

“You look really rough,” she said, as she placed his items in a bag. Hyesung was more embarrassed that he blushed, than anything else. He shouldn’t have left the house like that. Even the cashier was having a hard time because of him.

There was nothing on TV that night—he only had a few channels, anyway, and he didn’t feel like doing school work. Although he had slept well the night before, he was afraid to go back to sleep in case he had nightmares again. So he sat at his kitchen table, resting his head on his arms, and let his mind go over all of his memories of Eric, without trying to hold himself back.

The way he had held his hand that first day at the church, how he had brushed his fingers across Hyesung’s cheek before they had lunch, and his ear the second time, how he had kissed his shoulder, touched his knee, stroked his hair, held him. How his mouth felt against his own, and on his skin. How his hands felt, caressing him, leaving warmth behind wherever they touched. How incredible it felt when Eric was inside him, and how he felt less lonely after, with him beside him.

Hyesung fell asleep at the kitchen table, and woke up a few hours later from another nightmare where Eric left him. 


	4. Chapter 4

For once, Hyesung was up early on Sunday morning. So early, he almost considered it a sign that he should go to church—until he got a text from his landlord that his rent was late.

Normally, his parents sent the check well in advance, so they wouldn’t have to talk to him about it, and continued on with life as usual. It had been over a year since Hyesung had even seen them—and even then, it had been a coincidence when he’d run into them at a theater with a couple of his friends. They had looked away and pretended they didn’t know him—Hyesung hadn’t been to a movie, or been out with his friends, since.

Any other morning, he might have tried to text his parents, and see if they would bring the check, but he didn’t care anymore. They couldn’t ignore him, if he showed up on their doorstep. And it was their fault, anyway, for forgetting to pay it. That had been the deal—after all. Hyesung would move into his own apartment and not bother them, and they would pretend he didn’t exist, but pay his rent. If they let their end of the deal slip, Hyesung felt he had every right to go there and get the money in person.

The drive wasn’t a long one, but he took his time, reveling in his defiance. He wondered how shocked they would be to see him standing on the doorstep, asking for money, and how satisfied he would feel forcing them to see him for once.

When he got close to their house, though, his nervousness returned. He couldn’t bring himself to pull into the driveway, no matter how many times he told himself he had as much right to park there as anyone else, since he was visiting their house. So he parked on the street, instead, where it was impossible to tell who the car’s driver was visiting.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his head down as he walked through the garden. He was shaking so badly when he rang the bell, that he thought he might need to sit down, but he didn’t want to be sitting on the patio when his parents came out. He counted the mums on the porch, and tried to focus on the colors instead of the darkness that kept clouding his vision.

His mother answered the door—she was holding her bible in one hand, and she had her glasses on. She and Hyesung had the same round cheeks, and, under better circumstances, the same bright eyes. The smile slipped off of her face when she saw him, and she pressed the bible against her chest, like it would ward him off.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, after a while—realizing, perhaps, that Hyesung wasn’t going to say anything, otherwise. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but seeing his mother made him feel even weaker, like he needed to lean against something to remain standing.

“I…you forgot…” he stammered, unable to remember exactly what he had been thinking to show up so suddenly.

“Who is it?” he heard his father ask, as he joined his wife at the door.

“It’s him,” she said, pointing at Hyesung with her chin. His father frowned, glancing at him.

“You’re not supposed to come here,” he said.

“I…I know…it’s just,” Hyesung began, feeling his heart pounding so hard he was afraid he really would faint on their doorstep.

“Whatever it is, from now on just send a message. Don’t show up here, anymore,” his father said, beginning to close the door.

“Hyung?” another voice called, from inside.

Hyesung felt tears filling his eyes, as his father shut the door, hurriedly. Although he’d missed his parents, too, not seeing his little brother for so long had been the most difficult part of everything, and hearing his voice made Hyesung want to scream and beat on the door and beg to be let back in. Instead, he sunk to his knees on the patio.

He hadn’t been down there long, when the door opened again. It was his father, holding a check.

“Is this what you came for?” he asked, holding it out. Hyesung looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time in years, through the tears. His father didn’t even blink. “Take it and go,” he said, dropping it, so it fluttered in the breeze and fell in front of Hyesung on the doormat.

“Hyung? Get out of the way, dad, it’s him. I can see him,” Hyesung’s brother said, forcing the door open further, and nearly bowling their father over, trying to get out.

“Get back inside, Junjin,” their father said, trying to grab him by the arm. But Junjin dropped in front of his brother, on his knees, and picked up the check, stuffing it in Hyesung’s jacket pocket.

“Are you OK? Are you hurt? Come on, let’s go somewhere and get something to eat,” Junjin said, taking Hyesung’s arm, gently, and pulling him to his feet. Hyesung continued to hold his tears back as he was led to his own car—his father yelled after them for Junjin to stop, but Junjin didn’t seem interested in listening. He opened the passenger door for Hyesung, and closed it behind him, then turned and waved at their father, as if he wasn’t trying to pull shoes on and telling him to stop.

“What do you want to eat, hyung? I’m starving,” Junjin said, driving down the streets much more quickly than Hyesung had on the way there.

“You should go back. They’re going to be angry,” Hyesung said, staring straight ahead, and trying not to look at his baby brother, who was a full inch taller than him now. Jinnie looked more like their dad—an expressive face, strong eyebrows, and a sweet smile. Despite looking like a child when he smiled, his features were sharper, and his face was longer, than Hyesung’s. He turned the sad puppy eyes on his brother immediately.

“Haven’t you missed me, hyung? I’ve missed you so much,” Junjin said, not smiling anymore. Even stopped at a light, his hands were tight on the steering wheel as he looked at Hyesung, eyebrows knitted like he was in pain.

“Of course I’ve missed you,” Hyesung said, finally studying his younger brother’s face—he had changed a lot since they had last seen each other. He had lost some of his babyish features, and he looked older, and more mature—sadder.

“Eat with me, then. Please,” Junjin said. The light was green, but there was no one behind them. Hyesung knew it was a bad idea—their parents would only get angrier—but he couldn’t say no. Hyesung and Junjin had always been close, ever since they were little, and Hyesung had missed him more than was imaginable. Being pushed away by his parents was hard enough, and hurt so badly he didn’t know if he could stand it, but not being able to see his brother had been the most unbearable part. They were born less than a year apart, and before Hyesung had moved out, they hadn’t gone a single day of Junjin’s life without seeing each other. And now it had been almost a year since Hyesung had so much as heard his voice.

“OK. Let’s eat,” Hyesung conceded. Their parents would have to just be angry.

* * *

 “Did you celebrate Thanksgiving?” Junjin asked, cautiously. Ever since they’d arrived at the restaurant, he had seemed tense—like he was waiting for something bad to happen.

“Yes,” Hyesung lied, “with my friends. How was yours?”

“It’s not the same without you there,” Junjin said.

Hyesung smiled at him, and nodded, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Different without someone to fight you over the side dishes?” Hyesung asked.

“Yeah. I guess. So how’s school? Are you the top of your class?” Junjin asked, already polishing off his burger. He shoved the basket of fries over to Hyesung, who just shook his head.

“No. Not nearly. It’s OK. It’s school,” Hyesung said, pushing the basket back and smiling genuinely as Junjin grabbed a huge handful.

“How about singing? Do you still sing?” Junjin asked, pushing the basket back and putting his hands in the air, indicating he was finished.

“No. Not anymore,” Hyesung said, taking a fry and dipping it in ketchup.

“Why not, hyung? Your voice—”

“Can we talk about something else, Jinnie?” Hyesung asked quickly, not wanting to hurt his brother’s feelings, but needing to change the subject. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“It’s OK. No problem,” Junjin said, smiling at him reassuringly. “I’m sorry to pry.”

“You’re not prying. It’s fine, really…so, how’s school for you? Are you keeping your grades up?”

“No, not really. I don’t go very much,” Junjin admitted, playing with his straw wrapper.

“Junjin. Aren’t you supposed to graduate this spring? How can you do that if you don’t keep your grades up?” Hyesung asked, watching as Junjin rolled the wrapper around in a tight ball.

“I’m not that worried about it. If I don’t graduate, I don’t graduate,” he said, shrugging.

“I thought you wanted to transfer and go to my school, though, when you finished the first couple of years?” Hyesung pushed the basket of fries toward Junjin, once again, hoping they would distract him from playing with the straw wrapper—which was starting to drive him crazy.

“I did, at first. Now I don’t see the point. My grades aren’t good, and there’s nothing I want to do, anyway. Do you think, though, if I did go to your school I could stay with you?” Junjin asked. He looked at his hands, avoiding Hyesung’s gaze in a way that was all too familiar.

“Jinnie…”

“It’s OK, hyung. I know I can’t. I just thought I’d ask, anyway.”

For a couple of minutes, their conversation stalled, as Hyesung continued to eat his burger, staring intently at his younger brother, and waiting for him to speak again. Junjin looked at his hands, and out the window, and at the fries—but wouldn’t look at Hyesung.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, after a while.

Hyesung almost choked on his food.

“You can tell me, you know. I’m not going to tell anybody, or anything,” Junjin said, finally looking at him. “It’s just...I miss you, hyung. I feel like I don’t know anything at all about you, now. I don’t know what you like, or who you hang out with, or what TV shows you watch, or if you’re happy…” Junjin paused, looking back down at his hands. After a few seconds, his shoulders began to shake, and he covered his face with his hands.

“Jin-ah,” Hyesung said, gently. He didn’t know whether to move to Junjin’s side of the booth and comfort him, or not, and tears were building in his own eyes again. Both brothers had always been crybabies, although living on his own had broken Hyesung of the habit until recently.

“I went to the hospital earlier this year, hyung,” Junjin said, after he had calmed down a little. “You know what my panic attacks are like, and I had one at school. My teacher didn’t know what to do, so she called an ambulance. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even call you, even though I kept asking for you. And I don’t think it’s getting any better,” Junjin continued, hands still covering his face. His voice was so quiet, Hyesung could barely hear him.

The tears were threatening to choke him—the thought of his baby brother, scared and asking for him, was too much. He wanted to break down at the table, too. But Jinnie was crying, and waiting for him to say something.

“There’s a guy,” Hyesung said, after a minute—moving to Junjin’s side of the booth. He grabbed one of Junjin’s hands—wet with tears—and held it in both of his. “I met him at church a few weeks ago.”

It took Junjin a while to respond, but when he finally did, he sounded a little better.

“What’s he like?” he asked, sniffling, and leaning against Hyesung so their shoulders were touching.

“He’s good looking. He dresses well, he’s tall—maybe not as tall as you—beautiful eyes, tan skin, full lips…he calls me ‘Hyesung-ie’,” Hyesung paused, wrinkling his nose, and squeezed his brother’s hand. “His speaking voice is so nice—comforting. Everything about him feels warm, and safe.”

“It sounds like you really like him,” Junjin said, smiling, even though his face was still wet with tears.

“But he’s too good for me,” Hyesung said.

“No one’s too good for you,” Junjin insisted, squeezing Hyesung’s hand back.

“I pushed him away, and now he’s pushing me away,” Hyesung said, voice going very quiet again.

“Pull him back, then,” Junjin suggested. Hyesung couldn’t help but smile. “If you really like him, and if he’s as perfect as he sounds, then you should try. I’m sure he’ll forgive you. There’s nothing about you that isn’t lovable.”

“Sure you’re not just saying that because you’re my brother?” Hyesung asked.

“I’m sure.”

* * *

Hyesung and Junjin talked about other, smaller things for a while, but despite his happiness at seeing his little brother again, Hyesung’s thoughts kept drifting back to Eric and what Junjin had said about pulling him back. He wished he had been able to get his phone number, at least, if he wasn’t going to be in church.

“I should take you home now,” Hyesung said, standing up. “It’s getting late.”

“No, hyung. That’s OK. I’ll just take the bus. It’s probably better if you don’t have to go back to the house. You know what they’re like,” Junjin said.

“I’m not going to make you take the bus, Jinnie. I’ll take you home,” Hyesung said, pulling his brother to his feet.

“No, really. You were trembling like a leaf, earlier. You shouldn’t have to go back there.”

“Don’t worry about me, Junjin,” Hyesung insisted.

“I’ll take the bus. It’s really fine. I don’t mind the bus,” Junjin said.

“It’s not safe to take the bus at night by yourself. I’m worried about you,” Hyesung said.

“I’m twenty years old, hyung. You don’t have to worry about me, either.” Junjin smiled, to soften the words.

“I’m always going to worry about you, Jin-ah. Even if you’re one hundred years old. Let me call you a cab, at least,” Hyesung said, holding up his phone.

“All right,” Junjin agreed, knowing he would never win against his stubborn brother. He followed Hyesung to the door.

They didn’t have to wait very long for the cab to appear, but the two brothers stood on the curb, holding hands, as they looked out into the street. There were already Christmas lights on the street lamps, even though it was only the beginning of December.

“Is it OK if I call you sometime?” Junjin asked, as he climbed into the cab. “Now that I have your phone number?”

“Of course it’s OK. Just don’t let them catch you.”

Jinnie waved, as the cab pulled off, and Hyesung stood there for a while, staring at the vacant street.

* * *

That evening, Hyesung drove home exhausted. He and Junjin had talked for a long time—and he’d barely even thought about Eric for most of the day, but on the way home he missed both of them. He missed his little brother’s quick smile and mischievous sense of humor, and he ached for Eric’s tenderness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're keeping up with me on LJ, you've already seen this before, but I did go back and add some things. Hope you'll continue to bear with me through all of the angst. ^^


	5. Chapter 5

It was the third week of December, and the cold had driven Hyesung out of his apartment for the afternoon. By the time the semester ended, he always found himself running low on money, and he wouldn’t be getting the next installment of his scholarship until January. Until then, he needed to run the heat as little as possible—plus, for the first time in a while, he had a gift to buy. He and Junjin made plans to meet up the Sunday before Christmas and exchange gifts, and Hyesung had been looking forward to it for two weeks—spending most of his afternoons in secondhand shops, looking for something that would be perfect for Jinnie.  
  
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. It had to be cheap, but it also had to be something that would make his little brother smile. Harder than it sounded, but there were plenty of shops to explore, and Hyesung had nothing but time. Several times, he had almost settled for something—a sturdy pair of boots, a handsome jacket, a hat like a bread loaf—and decided at the last minute that it wasn’t good enough for his brother.  
  
But time was running out—the day for exchanging gifts was close, and Hyesung was starting to worry he wouldn’t find anything. He stopped at the next shop on his list, and looked in through the window. Judging by the displays, there was nothing in there he could afford. It looked more like an antique shop than a thrift store. He decided to walk in, anyway, lured by the packed bookshelves lining the back wall. He wasn’t much of a reader, really, but old books were one of his weaknesses. He couldn’t pass them by without at least looking through a couple.  
  
“Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked, appearing at his side as soon as he pulled one of the books from the shelf.  
  
“Um…no. I’m just looking,” Hyesung replied, holding the book to his chest more tightly than was necessary.  
  
“Are you buying gifts? We have a display of gift ideas over by this window, if you’d like to look. Or, if you’re looking for a particular book, let me know. We have lots of first editions,” the old man said, smiling brightly.  
  
“Sure, thank you,” Hyesung said, nodding. The man nodded back, and went back to his place behind the counter. Hyesung felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Even though it was expected, being approached by store clerks always made him nervous.  
  
He looked through the books for a couple more minutes, flipping through a couple, but mostly just running his fingers along their beautiful, ornate spines. There was nothing he was particularly interested in, plus he needed to find something for Junjin—and Junjin was even less of a reader than he was. On the way out, though, he stopped by the gift display the man had mentioned.  
  
Most everything was expensive—jewelry, old mirrors, antique lamps, gilded picture frames. He looked through it all curiously, but knew there was nothing that Jinnie would like, or that he could even begin to afford. As he began to walk away, though, he saw something that caught his eye—a gorgeous, silver, filigreed cigarette case. He had done so well, the previous two weeks, at keeping the worries to a minimum—at least during daylight hours—but as soon as he saw it he thought of Eric. It would fit him perfectly.  
  
Hyesung picked it up, gently, to check the price tag, without really thinking about what he was doing.  
  
“It’s $100,” the shopkeeper said, appearing next to him again. “But if you really like it, well, it’s almost Christmas…”  
  
“Ah, no, I can’t…” Hyesung said, putting it back down, and trying to smile. He didn’t know if he would ever see Eric again, anyway, so there was no point in buying him a gift—especially something so expensive. It would only get his hopes up again, and he’d just gotten them under control after talking to Junjin the other week.  
  
“Does it remind you of someone?” the man asked, smiling much more easily than Hyesung.  
  
“Yes,” Hyesung said, trying to back away. “A little.”  
  
“He must be handsome,” the man said, “like the case.”  
  
“He…is,” Hyesung admitted, feeling uncomfortable.  
  
“It sounds like it’s perfect, then. How much should I make it, so you can afford it?” the man asked.  
  
“It’s not just the price,” Hyesung said, shaking his head. He was close to the door. “I haven’t seen him in a while, so there’s no need.”  
  
“This could be the excuse you need,” the man said, not following Hyesung toward the door, but holding on to the cigarette case, still. “How about for $25?”  
  
“No, that’s OK. That’s too cheap.” Hyesung paused, hand close to the door knob, and looked at the case again.  
  
“Not if it’s going to someone who suits it,” the man insisted. “Besides, it seems like you could use the encouragement to meet this guy again. Is $25 too much?”  
  
“No. I have $25,” Hyesung said, taking a step closer.  
  


* * *

  
With Eric’s case in his pocket, Hyesung moved on to the next shops on his list. It had been so long since he’d had an occasion to buy a gift for anyone, having two people to give gifts to cheered him up more than anything had in weeks. He kept running his fingers along the front of it, even as he walked into other stores.  
  
It took him a couple of hours, but eventually he found the perfect gift for his brother. As kids, they had played lots of games together. They had always preferred each other’s company to the company of other children, even though both of them had been rather social. In one of the shops, he had discovered loads of old games, and very reasonably priced. He decided to buy a few of them, and make them into a gift basket of sorts. It was a little childish, but it would fit Junjin—and hopefully make him smile.  
  
He went home that evening with very little money left, but he was excited for the first time in what felt like years. Even the anxiety over how he would get the gift to Eric was overshadowed by how happy he was. He would have to go to church, he decided, and give the gift to Eric’s father. It wasn’t a perfect plan—the pastor could always refuse to give the gift, or say he would and then throw it away—and Hyesung was terrified of having to look at him again after last time, much less ask him for a favor, but it was the only way. He didn’t know how to make contact with Eric, otherwise.  
  
So, on Sunday evening, he got ready for church. It was the last Sunday before Christmas, which meant the usual service was cancelled in favor of a Christmas program that night. Hyesung hadn’t been in a while, but his years as a member of the congregation—plus a quick glance at the church’s calendar, online—had kept him informed. Because the service was in the evening, instead of the morning, he wasn’t running late when he arrived.  
  
He had hoped to be there a little early, and give the gift to Eric’s father before it started, but when he got there the pastor was nowhere to be seen—probably in the back, somewhere, preparing. Hyesung filed into a pew, holding the small, wrapped case close to his chest. He was wearing an oversized sweater and dark jeans—not his usual church clothes, but it was supposed to be a less formal occasion. Most everyone else was dressed better, but that didn’t surprise him.  
  
The program was the same as always, but Hyesung didn’t recognize any faces in the crowd, or in the service. It might as well have been a brand new church from the one he’d gone to as a child, even though the architecture, at least, was familiar. He felt nervous, holding the gift, and caught himself wishing that he were able to hold Eric’s hand. Despite years of memories in the building, all he could think of, sitting there, was Eric, and the few days he’d been able to spend with him.  
  
When the choir filed in, he stood up—deciding to wait for the pastor in the entry hall, where he would say his goodbyes to the congregation, after the service. Hyesung would wait for him there, where he thought he would feel a little less anxious. His hands were so sweaty, some of the color leaked from the wrapping paper on the gift, and the ink stained his fingers. As he inspected them, pushing open the door to the entry hall, he saw him—Eric. He was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs near the windows, illuminated by electric candles, and completely alone.  
  
Hyesung nearly dropped the gift, in surprise, and fumbled for it. Eric didn’t even look up—just continued to stare vacantly at his hands.  
  
“Eric?” Hyesung asked, letting the door fall closed behind him.  
  
Eric looked up, seeing him for the first time.  
  
“Hyesung? What are you doing here?” he asked, not standing up.  
  
“I…came to…” Hyesung faltered, holding onto the gift more tightly. “I hadn’t been in a while. I wanted to come before Christmas…” he said. His heart was beating so fast, he was afraid to speak anymore. The thought of seeing Eric had never crossed his mind, and he hadn’t prepared himself for it. The possibility of being treated badly by the pastor paled in comparison to how terrified he was that Eric wouldn’t want anything to do with him.  
  
“How’s the program?” Eric asked.  
  
“Good,” Hyesung said.  
  
“Do you want to sit down?” Eric asked, smiling slightly and patting the arm of the chair next to him.  
  
It took a few seconds for Hyesung’s legs to work again, but he walked over to Eric. His hands were trembling, and he clutched the gift even tighter as he sat down on the edge of the chair.  
  
“Why aren’t you inside?” Hyesung asked.  
  
“The Christmas thing is my least favorite part of church,” Eric said, frowning. “But my parents insisted this year. I haven’t been back since…” He sighed, turning toward Hyesung. “Listen, Hyesung, I’m really sorry about last time. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, and then walked away. I’ve wanted to apologize to you, but I…well, I haven’t been back to church. And I didn’t know if you would forgive me. But, since you’re here, well…you don’t have to forgive me, but I wanted to apologize.” Eric ran his fingers through his hair, looking at the floor.  
  
“You don’t have to apologize,” Hyesung said, shaking his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry. You tried to be nice to me, and I wouldn’t even talk to you. I shouldn’t even be showing my face here, now.”  
  
“Hey, don’t say that,” Eric said. His fingers found Hyesung’s wrist, briefly, before pulling quickly away. “What do you have to be sorry for when I’m the one who snapped at you?”  
  
“I deserved to be snapped at,” Hyesung responded. He was starting to feel like crying again. He had worried so much, and there Eric was, apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault.  
  
“Please don’t say that,” Eric repeated. “Have you felt bad about that this whole time?”  
  
Hyesung nodded—afraid to speak, again, in case he really did start crying. Eric frowned, and touched his hand, lightly, lacing his own fingers with Hyesung’s.  
  
“Then I’m even sorrier. I should have found a way to apologize to you before now.”  
  
For a couple of minutes, neither of them spoke. They were still holding hands and sitting there in silence when Hyesung remembered the gift. The paper was crumpled, from being clutched so tightly, but he had gone there to make sure Eric got the case—so it would have to do.  
  
“Actually, I…came to see the program, but I also wanted to get this to you, somehow,” Hyesung said, holding the present out in the hand that wasn’t being held by Eric’s.  
  
“You brought me a gift?” Eric asked, looking at it, then at Hyesung.  
  
“Yeah. I just saw this, and I thought of you, so…”  
  
“Can I open it?” Eric asked, reaching his hand out. Hyesung gave it to him, and nodded.  
  
Eric didn’t waste any time, letting go of Hyesung’s hand and tearing into the paper—not even glancing at it. Hyesung felt stupid for worrying about how crumpled and faded it was, as he looked at it, littering the floor of the entry hall.  
  
“Wow. Hyesung, it’s beautiful,” Eric said, running his fingers along the front—the same way Hyesung had, after buying it. He opened it, looking at the inside, and inspecting every aspect. “This had to be expensive, though. You shouldn’t have bought it,” he said, looking up from the case to frown at Hyesung.  
  
“It wasn’t expensive,” Hyesung said, blushing. “It was nothing. Like I said, I saw it and thought of you, so I just picked it up.”  
  
“Still,” Eric said, still running his fingers over the filigree. “And I didn’t get you anything.”  
  
“I don’t need anything,” Hyesung said. “I just wanted to get this for you. Do you like it?”  
  
Eric smiled, looking at Hyesung again.  
  
“It’s beautiful. I’m going to use it right now,” he said, pulling his pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, and beginning to stick them one by one into the new case.  
  
Hyesung couldn’t help but smile, watching him.  
  
“But, Hyesung,” Eric said, when he was finished. “Are you busy right now? Can I buy you dinner?”  
  
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Hyesung said, licking his lips.  
  
“You bought me a gift, and I didn’t get you anything,” Eric said, looking at his shoes. “Plus, I still feel bad about last time. I really want to make it up to you, if you’ve got time tonight.”  
  
Hyesung glanced at his watch. He had time—he wasn’t supposed to meet Jinnie for another couple of hours—but he didn’t like the idea of Eric buying him dinner to make things even. As far as he was concerned, the gift had finally leveled things out. And he definitely didn’t want Eric to buy him dinner because he felt sorry for him.  
  
However, just holding hands with Eric for a couple of minutes had made him feel so light and warm, that the temptation was too much.  
  
“I have time.”  
  


* * *

  
“Wow,” Eric said after a while, and breathed in sharply. Hyesung looked up from his plate and raised his eyebrows.  
  
“What?” he asked, mouth still full of noodles. Neither of them had spoken in a few minutes, and he was surprised to hear Eric’s voice so suddenly, breaking the silence.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Eric said, not smiling.  
  
Hyesung just shook his head, and chewed more carefully. He thought Eric was still trying to apologize without apologizing, but that didn’t stop what he’d said from making tears stand in Hyesung’s eyes before he could even swallow. He looked down at his plate, and willed himself not to feel that way, much less cry, over something so artificial.  
  
“Hyesung, look at me,” Eric said. Hyesung shook his head again, and closed his eyes, holding back the tears.  “Why not?”  
  
“Because I’m not,” Hyesung responded. He gave up and turned his head to wipe the tears away with the overly long sleeve of his sweater. He knew he wasn’t much to look at—pale, skinny, gangly, but soft, and rounded, somehow, with no muscle definition. His face was nothing special either—round cheeks, sharp chin, weak jaw. It was amazing someone like Eric would even look at him.  
  
Eric didn’t say anything as Hyesung continued to dry his eyes with his sleeve. When the tears finally stopped, he turned back to his plate and picked up his fork. He tried not to look at Eric—hoped that if he didn’t look at the other man, they wouldn’t have to talk about it anymore.  
  
Neither of them spoke, as Hyesung continued to eat. His food had gotten cold, but he ate it, anyway, mechanically putting the pasta into his mouth and focusing his attention on Eric’s hands. They were folded, next to his plate, which was still full of food. They didn’t move with any of his usual nervous energy—his fingers were still. Hyesung had held Eric’s hands before, had felt them on his body, but he was still amazed at how lovely they were—slender, but strong, unlike Hyesung’s own, which seemed fleshy and soft in comparison. When there was nothing left on his plate, Hyesung put his fork next to it, and continued to stare at Eric’s unmoving hands.  
  
“Ready to go?” Eric asked. His voice was filled with the warmth that Hyesung hadn’t known he had been longing for. He nodded, and watched Eric take out his wallet. The waitress appeared immediately, as if she had been waiting, to hand him the check. Hyesung reached for his own wallet, but Eric handed her his card, instead.  
  
“This is a gift, remember?” he asked. Hyesung nodded.  
  


* * *

  
When they reached the car, Hyesung wished he had driven. He wished, for once, that he felt in control of the situation. He had missed the comfort of having Eric take care of things—but then, waiting for the doors to be unlocked, he didn’t want it anymore. He didn’t want to listen to whatever it was that Eric was going to say, or ask.  
  
“Hyesung,” Eric started, as soon as the doors were closed. “I think we need to talk about this.”  
  
“Talk about what?” Hyesung said, picking at the sleeves of his sweater.  
  
“Talk about why you were crying,” Eric said.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid,” Hyesung said, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Eric looked at him for a while, and shook his head.  
  
“The first time I saw you, I wanted you. You were so beautiful I couldn’t look away, and I wanted you,” he said, after a while.  
  
“Well, you got me,” Hyesung said, looking out of the window. He felt stupid for crying, already, and Eric had made it worse. Of course that’s what he meant—fuckable, not beautiful. Not that there was a difference, when Eric was only saying it because he felt sorry.  
  
“Do you still think that day was the first time I saw you?” Eric asked.  
  
“What?”  
  
“The first time I saw you, I was seventeen years old. It was my dad’s first Sunday as the pastor at that church. I was annoyed, because I didn’t want to go, but he said we all had to—at least that first Sunday. I tuned out most of the sermon, but I always liked hearing the choir, so when they filled in I looked up. And I saw you for the first time. I didn’t see another person that was up there. Only you. You were in a white sweater, and the windows made your hair look red. You were the most beautiful boy—most beautiful person—I had ever seen in my life. And when you started singing, your voice was more beautiful than anything I’d ever heard. I think that was the first and only time I felt like I might be able to believe in god.”  
  
Hyesung could feel Eric staring, but couldn’t look back at him. He closed his eyes, instead.  
  
“I went to church every Sunday for months after that, just to hear you sing. And see you. You were so beautiful, I was afraid to talk to you, but being able to see you was enough. And then, one Sunday, you weren’t there. And you weren’t there the next Sunday, or the one after that, or the one after that, either. So I just stopped going. That day, when I met you, was the first time I’d been to church in four years, and there you were. So, it’s not like I’m saying I believe in signs from the universe, but if the universe does give us signs, or if god gives us signs, then you’re mine.”  
  
Hyesung’s hand was trembling, when Eric found it, and he felt himself clinging to the other man without knowing what he was doing or why.  
  
“Hyesung,” Eric said, again. “Please look at me.” He squeezed Hyesung’s fingers, and Hyesung could feel that Eric’s hand was steady and strong over his. He looked at Eric for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. “You’re really, really beautiful. And I’m not just saying that because I want to fuck you.”  
  
Hyesung had started crying again, but he smiled, anyway.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me you recognized me?” he asked, after a while.  
  
“I didn’t want to scare you off,” Eric said, so quickly it was as if he were expecting the question. “I’ve been afraid I managed to do that, anyway, though.”  
  
Eric didn’t loosen his grip on Hyesung’s hand, and he was thankful. He needed the pressure of Eric’s fingers to hold him together. And, after a while, the tears stopped. He knew his eyes and face were probably swollen and red, but he wiped his face with his free hand, and leaned forward, anyway. They kissed for a while, and Eric continued to hold his hand, stroking his cheek with the other.  
  
“Eric,” Hyesung whispered, close to the other man’s ear. “Can we…?” His hand found the buttons on Eric’s shirt, and started working on them.  
  
“Don’t,” Eric said.  
  
“Sorry.” Hyesung moved his hand away, embarrassed, and tried to pull away.  
  
“Please don’t be sorry. It’s just...I want to hold you for a while,” Eric said, moving the hand that had been stroking Hyesung’s cheek up to caress his hair, instead.  
  
Hyesung swallowed hard, licking his lips, and nodded, leaning into Eric’s touch.  
  
They stayed like that for a few minutes, holding onto each other in Eric’s car. Occasionally, Eric would touch Hyesung’s hair, or they would kiss, but mostly they were still—bodies separated by the console. When Hyesung remembered about meeting Jinnie, he was shocked that so much time had passed. He didn’t want to pull away from Eric, but if he didn’t, he knew he would be late.  
  
“Eric,” he said, resting a hand on the other man’s chest again, and pulling away.  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“I need to go. I’m supposed to meet my brother and exchange gifts,” he explained, still finding it hard to meet Eric’s gaze.  
  
“Oh. OK. No problem. Do you want me to drop you off where you’re supposed to meet him? Or should I take you to your car?” Eric asked, turning to put the key in the ignition, and realizing the car was already on—and had been the entire time they had been sitting there.  
  
“Actually, do you want to go with me to see him? I know I haven’t told you much about my family, but Jinnie is great. He’s cute, funny, bright…” Hyesung trailed off, and shook his head. “I understand if you don’t want to, but you’ve been so good to me today, and Jinnie’s the only good thing I have to share with you.”  
  
“You really want me to meet your brother?” Eric asked.  
  
Hyesung glanced at him, and nodded, nervously.  
  
“Yes. If you’d like to.”  
  
“Are you opening up to me, now?” Eric asked. When Hyesung glanced at him, again, he was smiling.  
  
“I’m trying.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! It's still Hyesung's birthday in my timezone, so I wanted to hurry and get it posted. I should have plenty of time to write after next week, so hopefully the next chapters will come faster (and will be better quality). 
> 
> Also, for anyone interested, I made a playlist of the songs I usually listen to when I write this one. I'll probably do one for Supermarket soon, too: http://8tracks.com/situationnormal/stained-glass

Hyesung had left Junjin’s present at his apartment—they were meeting close by, so it had seemed like the most reasonable way to do things, especially since Hyesung had taken the bus to church to save on money. Eric wanted to go inside with him to get it, but Hyesung was worried about his own self-control. He had been looking forward to seeing Junjin, and he wanted Eric to meet him—he didn’t want to miss the whole thing because he couldn’t keep his hands off of Eric—especially in sight of a bed.  
  
The elevator had been repaired, but Hyesung didn’t trust it not to break down when he was in a hurry, so he took the stairs two at a time. By the time he reached his apartment, his lungs were bursting from the exertion and the cold. He turned on the heat when he got inside. It was freezing, and he hoped Eric would come back with him. He could handle one expensive electricity bill before the next installment of his scholarship—it wouldn’t kill him to freeze for a bit, but Eric didn’t seem like he was used to being cold.  
  
Jinnie’s gift was sitting on the couch, and Hyesung picked it up as gingerly as possible, with his trembling hands. Junjin was childlike and liked to rip into presents like Eric, but he was always careful and attentive with gifts from Hyesung, knowing he took a lot of care in wrapping them. Hyesung took the stairs more slowly on the way down, not wanting to make Eric wait, but also not wanting to get in the car panting and sweaty.  
  
“That was quick,” Eric said, when he opened the door.  
  
“All I had to do was grab the present,” Hyesung explained, holding it up. He had wrapped all of the games individually, and then put them in a basket with a bow. It would be difficult for Jinnie to sneak all of it back into their parents’ house, but Hyesung thought maybe he could lie and say he’d exchanged gifts with his friends.  
  
“Wow. You must like your brother a lot,” Eric said, laughing. “Is that all for him?”  
  
Hyesung nodded, and fastened his seatbelt.  
  
“I would have gotten you more, too, but I…”  
  
“I’m kidding, Hyesung. It’s cute that you’re so sweet to your brother,” Eric assured him, ruffling his hair lightly.  
  
Hyesung frowned automatically, pushing it back into place.  
  
“Very cute,” Eric teased. “So where to?”

* * *

A few minutes later, they reached the coffee shop Hyesung had agreed to meet Junjin in. It was next to a park, and they thought that if it wasn’t too cold, they could walk around while they drank their coffee and exchanged gifts—or, while Hyesung drank coffee—Junjin always got hot chocolate, unless things had changed quite a bit.

“Are you sure it’s OK if I go with you?” Eric asked, turning the car off. “He won’t tell your parents anything?”  
  
“Junjin won’t tell them anything. He won’t even tell them he’s seen me,” Hyesung said, holding the gift tightly. “Do you…not want to meet him, then?”  
  
He had gotten so excited about the thought of Eric meeting Jinnie that even his nervousness had evaporated. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of their meeting putting too much pressure on Eric, and making him uncomfortable. But suddenly, the thought deflated him, and he chewed his bottom lip.  
  
“Of course I want to meet him. Please don’t worry about things like that,” Eric said. He reached out, brushing Hyesung’s bottom lip with his thumb, and cupping his face in his hand. “I’m just worried I’m making things hard on you again.”  
  
Hyesung’s first instinct was to pull back, startled, but he relaxed, instead, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Eric’s hand on his face. His hand was so warm, and Hyesung still wasn’t used to how comforting being touched could be.  
  
“You’re not. I really want you to be here,” Hyesung whispered. Eric nodded, and brushed his thumb over Hyesung’s lips once again.  
  
“Should we go inside, then?” Eric asked. Hyesung wished he could decipher the other man’s expressions—his dark eyes and small smile never seemed to reveal anything about what he was thinking or feeling.  
  
“Yes,” Hyesung said, reluctantly. “He’s probably waiting.” They were already fifteen minutes late, and Junjin had never been very patient. Hyesung was surprised he hadn’t gotten a call or text from him yet.  
  


* * *

  
When they walked in the door, Hyesung immediately spotted Jinnie. He was sitting right next to the window, already holding a mug, and looking through his phone.  
  
“Jinnie,” Hyesung called, softly. His brother looked up, smiling, and let his gaze go from his brother to Eric.  
  
“Hyung! You’re late. Who’s this?” Junjin asked, standing up and pulling Hyesung into a hug.  
  
“Sorry. I had to go back to my apartment to pick up your present after church,” Hyesung explained, hugging Junjin back enthusiastically.  
  
“Church, huh? So this must be—”  
  
“This is Eric,” Hyesung said, quickly. “He’s…”  
  
“—the guy you told me about,” Junjin said, finishing his sentence, anyway. “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Eric, shaking his hand.  
  
“Nice to meet you, too. I hope you don’t mind me coming along,” Eric said, smiling warmly. Hyesung glanced at him, trying to decide if Eric was uncomfortable or embarrassed to know that Hyesung had talked about him with his brother, but he seemed fine with it, as if he hadn’t even heard their exchange at all.  
  
“Of course I don’t mind. I’ve been curious about you. Do you want to go get some coffee, hyung? I’ll keep him company for you,” Junjin said, pulling out his wallet.  
  
“I—”  
  
“It’s OK,” Eric said, turning to Hyesung to smile reassuringly. “I’ll get the coffee. You two should catch up. What do you want to drink, Hyesung?”  
  
“I’ll go with you. I’ll pay for the coffees,” Hyesung said.  
  
“I’ll pay for it,” Eric and Junjin said, at the same time. Junjin laughed, patting Eric on the shoulder.  
  
“Should we play rock, paper, scissors?” he asked.  
  
“Let me pay, this time. I’m crashing your meeting, so it’s the least I can do. Do you want a refill? It looks like your mug is almost empty. And how about you, Hyesung? What kind of coffee do you like?” Eric asked, moving away from them already.  
  
“If you insist,” Junjin said, grinning. “I’ll take a hot chocolate. Americano, hyung?”  
  
Hyesung nodded, giving up.  
  
When Eric was out of earshot, Junjin grabbed his arm, pulling him to the table.  
  
“You weren’t kidding when you told me how great he is, were you?” Jinnie asked, practically bouncing up and down.  
  
Hyesung blushed, and put the present down between them on the table.  
  
“What do you think so far?” he asked.  
  
“He’s very handsome. He seems nice. And it looks like he likes you a lot. I like him,” Junjin said, simply. He rarely wasted time trying to put things delicately—not even when it came to his overly sensitive older brother. “But you were being silly when you said you didn’t think you were good enough for him. You’re just as good as he is.”  
  
“Not better?” Hyesung asked, sticking his tongue out.  
  
“If I say you’re better, I’ll seem biased, right?” Junjin asked. Then, after a few seconds: “But of course you’re much better.”  
  
Hyesung smiled, satisfied with Jinnie’s answer—even if he was saying it out of bias. He explained quickly what had happened that night, leaving out the finer details—he couldn’t reveal everything to his little brother, after all—and by the time he had finished, Eric was returning with their drinks.  
  
“Thank you,” Junjin said, taking the tray from Eric so he could sit down.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Eric said. He sat down next to Hyesung, and turned to him, smiling. “Did you tell your brother how great I am?”  
  
Hyesung blushed, grabbing his coffee from the tray.  
  
“I didn’t know you had an arrogant side,” he said, smiling a little.  
  
“Me either, but I like you more for it,” Junjin added. He took a sip of his hot chocolate, and smiled over the rim of the cup.  
  
“Must be because I’m happy,” Eric said. He took a sip of his drink, as well.  
  
“My brother is so handsome he makes you feel proud to be next to him, right?” Junjin asked, winking at Hyesung.  
  
“Jinnie, don’t try to embarrass him,” Hyesung said, weakly, kicking his brother under the table.  
  
“It’s not embarrassing,” Eric said. “It’s partly because of that, and partly because I’m happy he trusted me enough to let me meet someone he cares so much about.”  
  
“Ah. He can be closed off, can’t he? But please don’t let him scare you away. He’s sweet once he lets you in. I promise. He’s definitely worth it.”  
  
Hyesung was scared and embarrassed to meet Eric’s eyes, but when the other man turned in his seat, Hyesung forced himself to look. Eric wasn’t smiling, but there was something almost tender behind his eyes that made Hyesung’s chest tighten.  
  
“I can tell.”  
  
Hyesung wanted to grab Eric’s hand under the table, so let himself do it, squeezing the other man’s fingers. Eric seemed surprised, and pulled away a little at first, but he let Hyesung lace their fingers, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of Hyesung’s hand.  
  
“Hey, Jinnie. It’s all right. Why are you crying?” Hyesung asked. When he looked away from Eric, he realized tears were wetting his brother’s cheeks.  
  
Junjin wiped at his eyes, shaking his head.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m just a crybaby. Probably because it’s almost Christmas,” he said, half-laughing and half-sniffling. “It’s just…you look so much happier than you did last time I saw you.”  
  
“Jin-ah,” Hyesung said, reaching over the table to grab Junjin’s hand in his free one.  
  
“I’m really sorry. We just met and I’m already crying,” Junjin said, nodding to Eric, who nodded back.  
  
“Not at all. Don’t worry about it,” Eric said. He was smiling again. “Do you two like movies? I’m sure you want to catch up, so I understand if you’re not interested, but there’s a theater near here that’s playing Christmas movies. It could be fun to go together.”  
  
“That sounds like fun,” Junjin said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.  
  
“Yeah,” Hyesung agreed. The way his heart was fluttering, he could have agreed to anything. He had let go of Junjin so he could wipe his eyes, but Eric was still stroking the back of his other hand.  
  
“Do we have time to open presents first?”  
  


* * *

  
That night, Eric insisted on driving Junjin home after the movie. It was after midnight when it ended, and only a couple of buses were running. He said he didn’t feel right sending him home in a cab. Besides, he didn’t live too far away.  
  
Junjin told Hyesung that he should get out at his apartment, in case their parents were waiting and saw him, but Hyesung refused. He wanted to see Jinnie as long as possible, plus, he was still hoping that Eric would want to come in after dropping him off.  
  
Junjin climbed out of the car, holding an armload of games. He had cried over those, too—not the smile Hyesung had been hoping for—but he said they were happy tears. He even took the wrapping paper with him, saying he wanted to keep that, too. Hyesung watched him go, feeling even more disappointed than he had the time before.  
  
“You really miss him, don’t you?” Eric asked, when Junjin had disappeared behind the garden fence.  
  
“Yeah,” Hyesung said, playing with the bracelet Junjin had given him. It was nothing fancy—just a braided piece of leather—but Hyesung loved it. He hadn’t cried, but happy tears had definitely welled up. No matter how long he and Jinnie went without seeing each other, it seemed like his brother still knew his style.  
  
“You can’t meet up with him much?” Eric put the car in drive, and Hyesung continued to look out the window. Suddenly, he was feeling shy. His heart was beating so fast he was afraid something was wrong with him. The usual need to be holding Eric’s hand, or touching him, was stronger than ever, but different somehow. He wanted Eric to be touching him, but he also wanted Eric to be talking to him, and looking at him, and laughing with him the way they’d laughed with Junjin—even though the movie hadn’t been particularly funny. He was happy, but his chest ached, and he couldn’t understand why.  
  
“Hyesung-ie? You OK?” Eric called, breaking through his thoughts.  
  
“Sorry. I’m fine. I was just thinking. But no, we can’t meet up much. Our parents,” Hyesung explained, finally working up the courage to turn and look at Eric while he drove. He was just as handsome and intriguing as the first time Hyesung had watched him from the passenger’s seat. His fingers still tightened on the steering wheel, and his forehead creased in an adorable frown as he passed other drivers.  
  
“I see. I’m sorry,” Eric said, glancing at Hyesung and catching him staring. He winked, just like he had the first time, but somehow Hyesung wasn’t embarrassed past the shyness he was already feeling.  
  
Hyesung didn’t respond, just licked his lips, not taking his eyes off of Eric.  
  
“You sure you’re OK?” Eric asked, glancing at him again.  
  
“Mmm. But Eric, do you think…” Hyesung trailed off, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”  
  
“What is it?” Eric asked. They were already on Hyesung’s street, even though it seemed like it had only been a couple of minutes since they dropped Junjin off.  
  
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Hyesung said, tearing his eyes away from Eric and looking down at his hands.  
  
“You can ask me anything, you know,” Eric said, touching Hyesung’s knee lightly as they arrived in front of Hyesung’s building.  
  
“I was just wondering,” Hyesung said, glancing at Eric’s hand. “Do you think I could see you again sometime? Not on a Sunday, I mean?”  
  
“You want to?” Eric asked, sounding so shocked that even Hyesung was surprised.  
  
“I…yeah. I do. I mean, it’s up to you. But I just thought, if I at least had your number, if there was every any reason we needed to talk. Since I don’t know if you’ll be in church every Sunday or not,” Hyesung said, stumbling over his words so much he was surprised he could even get the sentence out.  
  
“You know, I thought you were only interested in me for sex,” Eric said, after a few seconds. That guarded, intense expression was on his face again, and for a moment Hyesung couldn’t react. “That’s why I didn’t give you my number. I didn’t think you’d want to see me again after that first day. I still didn’t want to get my hopes up after the second or third time.”  
  
“Didn’t you know I was hurt the last time?” Hyesung asked, after a while.  
  
“No. Not until tonight. I just thought you might be angry, because I was so sharp with you. I didn’t realize…” Eric laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Forget it. Hand me your phone, and I’ll call mine. Then we’ll have each other’s numbers.”  
  
“When can I call you?” Hyesung said, watching as Eric dialed the number. His ears were turning red again.  
  
“You’re calling me right now,” Eric said, holding up the phone, and smiling.  
  
Hyesung laughed, incredulous.  
  
“You’re so weird.”  
  
“I know,” Eric said, wrinkling his nose. “You can call me any time. Tomorrow, if you want.”  
  
“OK,” Hyesung said, taking his phone back, and smiling. He sat there for a few more seconds, trying to control his heart rate. It seemed like the opportunity to ask Eric to come in had slipped away, but he still didn’t want to get out of the car.  
  
“Sleep well, Hyesung-ie,” Eric said, brushing some hair out of his eyes again.  
  
Hyesung nodded, and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Eric’s cheek.  
  
“Good night, Eric.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, this isn't very well-edited because I wanted to post it before midnight (or else I'll be late on the week's challenge). Usually the chapters for this story run a bit longer, but I didn't want to drag this one out too much because it was so much description. Hopefully I'll have another one up next week, since I have more free time now! Thanks for sticking with me so far.

Even with Eric’s phone number, Hyesung didn’t feel completely at ease. If anything, he was more nervous. Now, if he couldn’t talk to Eric, it was his own fault—because he was afraid, or because Eric didn’t want to speak to him.  
  
And it was up to him to make the first call.  
  
He turned his phone over in his hands, and chewed his bottom lip. Eric said he could call as soon as the next day, but Hyesung still wasn’t sure. His previous relationships had never been the type that involved dates or phone calls. They had never made him nervous before. Not that he considered Eric someone he was in a relationship with—at least not in that sense. Still, it was definitely more difficult, wanting to know and be close to someone. And, as strange and new as the feeling was, that’s what he wanted—to be close to Eric.  
  
He placed his phone on the bed beside him, and pulled at the sleeves of his sweater, absentmindedly unraveling a loose thread. He had forgotten to turn the heat down when he’d gotten home the night before, and it was pleasantly warm under the covers.  
  
Things would be easier, maybe, if he could sleep. He had been up all night, half-excited and half-worried, and trying to rehearse what he would say on the phone. He regretted not at least trying to get Eric to stay with him. Maybe, with him there, he could have slept. If Eric had spent the night, he wouldn’t have to worry about calling him, either.  
  
For a few moments, he got lost in thoughts of what they might be doing if he had invited Eric inside the night before. Normally, those types of thoughts would make his chest ache, or at least make him need a cool shower, but that morning all Hyesung could think about was how nice it would be to have Eric to help him sleep. The thought of Eric beside him, arms around him, head on his chest, made him yawn.  
  
He picked up the phone again. He had even kissed Eric on the cheek the night before. A phone call was nothing. And Eric had said it was OK. Eric had seemed like he genuinely wanted him to call. His fingers were trembling as he touched the buttons. He was going to try it. If Eric was busy, he was busy. If he didn’t answer, Hyesung could leave a message. If he didn’t call back, well, Hyesung would try again. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.  
  
He rolled over on his side, curling his knees to his chest, and pressed the phone to his ear.  
  
“Hyesung-ie…morning.” Eric’s voice was so sleepy and beautiful, Hyesung thought he would cry. He had to clear his throat before he could speak.  
  
“Morning.”  
  


* * *

  
It had been nearly two weeks, and things with Eric were almost…normal. Sitcom normal. The kind of relationship Hyesung had always witnessed, but never experienced.  
  
When they spent time together, Eric called it “dating.” Hyesung had never been out on dates before. He had been to bars with people he’d fucked—maybe that was considered dating, but he’d never thought of it that way. With Eric, lunches were dates, and movies were dates. Even playing video games in sweatpants and ordering takeout was considered a date.  
  
At first, Hyesung was uncomfortable with the word. It didn’t feel right—not for him. It shouldn’t have been something he was capable of. But Eric changed everything. The things he was too afraid to do seemed easy with Eric, because he was so sure of himself, and so sure of Hyesung. Eric convinced him to go to theaters, and into crowded shops and restaurants, so easily. If Hyesung was scared, Eric held his hand. If he wanted to leave, Eric never argued, and he was never upset. He always had sweet words and encouragements to talk him through every new and intimidating experience.z  
  
Dating was nice, but it was confusing. When Eric smiled at him, it was almost as good as his touch. When they walked in crowds, and Eric got close to his ear to speak, it warmed Hyesung’s entire body, and made him feel like the only person in the world. As much as Hyesung hated his hair being touched, when Eric stroked his head, or patted it, it made him feel satisfied and cozy. He leaned into the touch like a cat—if he could have purred, he would have.  
  
Jealousy was another confusing new feeling for Hyesung. He had felt envious, maybe, on occasion—but he had never had anyone to be jealous over. Even when he’d “dated” before, he hadn’t cared about a single one of them enough to feel anything. With Eric, things were different. When people looked at him in the streets, or tried to make conversation with him in stores and restaurants, Hyesung felt a sick rage build inside of him that he was too afraid to act on or say anything about.  
  
He knew he should be ashamed of himself, but the jealousy was sort of nice, too. It was the only one of the new feelings Eric was bringing out in him that he could recognize and understand, which made it comforting, in a way. The strange way he felt when Eric smiled at him for no reason, or asked his opinion, or said his name, was too difficult to comprehend, but the jealousy made sense—even though he knew he should try not to feel it. Eric had never given him any reason to be jealous, anyway. And, for the most part, they were just friends.  
  
Friends who kissed, and held hands, and who had slept with each other a handful of times—but not in the type of relationship to be jealous over each other. So Hyesung didn’t let Eric know, but he held on to the feeling. When they were alone, he could assure himself that someone handsome enough to feel that way about had chosen to spend his evenings, and most of his afternoons, with him.  
  
Really that was the only problem with Eric—that he didn’t seem to need sex as badly as Hyesung did. Ever since that last day in the church, they hadn’t gotten any further, physically, than kissing. Hyesung was too worried to make the first move—he didn’t know how things were supposed to work in this new, strange sort of relationship they’d found themselves in. When they kissed, Eric always pulled away first. When he slept over, he wanted to cuddle, but he never seemed to need more.  
  
Which was part of the reason Hyesung felt so jealous. If he wanted Eric so badly he ached to be touched—and he did, so often he thought he wouldn’t be able to make it through another night, much less another week, without him, then why didn’t Eric feel the same way?  
  
He tried to convince himself that it was a good opportunity to explore all of the new feelings and sensations that Eric was bringing out in him. Maybe it was good to get to know someone, and learn about his feelings for him, before going any further. But he had already had Eric, and he wanted him—needed him—again. Desperately.  
  


* * *

  
“Do you want to order jajangmyun?” Eric asked. He hadn’t been over the day before—his family had wanted him to spend the entire day with them for New Year’s—but as soon as he’d been able to get away, Eric had shown up at Hyesung’s apartment, carrying a bag of clothes and asking if he could stay overnight.  
  
“If you want,” Hyesung said, watching him from his place on the couch. Even in pajamas, with his hair matted from the nap he’d just taken, Eric was gorgeous.  
  
“What did you eat yesterday?” he asked, still staring intently at the takeout menu on the kitchen counter. Hyesung had hoped, when Eric showed up with his things, that he was finally tired of waiting, too. But it seemed like all Eric wanted was takeout and video games—maybe some cuddling on the couch.  
  
“Um…”  
  
“Jajangmyun?” Eric asked, looking up from his menu. When he met Hyesung’s eyes, he smiled. Hyesung was glad he was sitting, because he felt pathetically weak every time it happened. Eric’s smile was amazing enough, but when he looked at Hyesung like that when he did it…  
  
“Yeah,” Hyesung admitted. His head was spinning.  
  
“I should have brought you some leftovers from my house. I’m sorry you had to eat and spend the day alone,” Eric said, taking the menu with him to the couch.  
  
“It’s OK,” Hyesung said. “I’m used to it.”  
  
“That makes me even sorrier.” Eric touched his hair lightly, and tucked a piece behind his ear. If anyone else had done it, it would have been annoying, but Hyesung had to fight the urge to press his cheek against Eric’s palm.  
  
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Hyesung said, closing his eyes as Eric continued to stroke his hair.  
  
“But I do.” Eric’s voice was barely a whisper.  
  
Hyesung cracked his eyes open to see Eric was smiling at him, again, with that look in his eyes. That look that Hyesung couldn’t understand, and couldn’t place. He knew—he was sure—he had never looked at anyone like that. With so much kindness, and so much tenderness. But sometimes, Eric did—at first, he would close himself off again, quickly. But lately, the looks lasted longer and longer.  
  
And Hyesung needed to kiss him.  
  
He lifted his own hand to Eric’s cheek—shyly tracing the other man’s cheekbone with his fingertips.  
  
Eric went still. His expression had changed—no longer tender and unguarded.  
  
Hyesung kissed him, anyway. Softly, gently—the way Eric always kissed him. And this time, it was Eric who was more forceful. Eric who bit his bottom lip lightly, who pulled it into his mouth, who touched his chest, and who broke away, panting.  
  
“I’m sorry. I bit you again,” Eric said, when his breathing was more steady. He brushed Hyesung’s bottom lip with his thumb, frowning. “Did I hurt you?”  
  
“No,” Hyesung said. His lip was the least of his worries. That, at least felt pleasant. Eric kissed him, again, lightly.  
  
“So, what should we order tonight?”  
  
But there was nothing he could do, if Eric wasn’t ready.


	8. Chapter 8

“You know, I kind of hoped we wouldn’t have to come here anymore,” Eric said. Hyesung looked up, and closed the hymn book he had been leafing through. Eric was walking toward him, down the center aisle between the pews, and the fractured light from the windows made his dark jeans and sweatshirt look like artwork. Hyesung swallowed, hard, and combed his hair forward, nervously, with his fingers.

“Why? It’s peaceful,” he said. His voice was quiet, but it echoed in the empty church.

“Not on Sundays,” Eric countered, stopping a few feet short of the steps in front of the pulpit, where Hyesung was sitting.

“You don’t have to come on Sundays, if you don’t want to,” Hyesung said, shaking his head. “I told you, I just want to—”

“No. I don’t mind, anymore. You’re so beautiful, but I think you look even better in this lighting,” Eric said. Hyesung put the book down beside him, and stood up. To him, the church was sacred—not just because of religious significance, but because going there always answered his prayers—Eric was always there to ease his loneliness. It was a special place for him, even if it meant nothing to Eric.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Hyesung asked, brushing off his pants, and taking a step toward Eric, who held up his hand.

“Wait. Just stand there for a minute. I’m trying to memorize the way you look right now,” Eric said. He had that look on his face, again—that intense, indecipherable look—and Hyesung couldn’t help but listen. He stood still, feeling self-conscious. What about him was worth memorizing?

The few seconds he stood there felt like they stretched out endlessly. Hyesung stood still, trying not to fidget, as Eric watched him, appraisingly. After a while, he finally smiled—a huge, childlike grin. Those grins were few and far between—even when the two of them spent time with Jinnie, which they’d done a couple of times, Eric seemed slightly preoccupied. He smiled, and laughed, but they didn’t seem completely genuine.

“Wow,” Eric said, closing the distance between them. “Sorry. Yes. I found the sermon. It was in his desk. Right where he said it would be,” he continued, close to Hyesung’s ear.

Another six weeks had passed, and not much had changed between them since New Year’s. Physically, anyway. Eric didn’t seem to mind, and sometimes, Hyesung thought maybe he could stand it, too. Other times, his skin felt like it was on fire as soon as Eric touched him. If their hands brushed on the couch, or if he caught Eric smiling at him, or if he had one of those horrible dreams, where Eric left him, he ached so badly he didn’t think he could hold himself together without the pressure of Eric’s hands on him. Sometimes, he wondered if Eric didn’t realize what he did to him, or if he just wasn’t interested.

His mouth against Hyesung’s ear was enough to set his body on fire again.

“You ready to go?” Eric asked, moving away, and leaving Hyesung gasping.

“Yeah,” Hyesung said. Mostly, he wanted to go to that conference room they’d christened the second time they met, and try a re-enactment. But Eric, as per usual, didn’t seem to notice.

Eric smiled, and took his hand, pulling him gently down the steps and toward the entry hall. Hyesung couldn’t help but think that the long walk down the aisle must be similar to what people feel after getting married—except, then, they’re probably expecting sex to end the night. He could hardly even hope for it.

They paused for a second, near the door, as Eric tried to fish out the set of keys his father had given him. He had to let go of Hyesung’s hand to find the right one, and Hyesung wandered, looking at all of the pamphlets tacked to the bulletin board inside of the door. Most of them were about programs for seniors, but there were also announcements about members of the congregation—sick notices, anniversaries, and birthdays. He scanned the list, absently. He didn’t know anyone at the church well enough to recognize their names on the list—except, there was one. February 16th – Eric Mun – Birthday. Hyesung squinted, looking at the list more closely. Eric hadn’t mentioned anything about his birthday. But, no, the list definitely said. And how many men named Eric Mun could attend one church.

“Eric?” Hyesung said, frowning.

“I’ve almost got it,” Eric said, holding up a couple of the keys, as he compared the paint dots his father had used to differentiate them.

“Is your birthday next week?” Hyesung continued.

“What?” Eric asked, finally choosing one of the keys.

“Your birthday. Why didn’t you tell me it was next week?” Hyesung asked, taking the key out of Eric’s hand.

“Did my dad put that on the bulletin board? My god. I’m a grown man,” Eric complained, as he watched Hyesung put the keys down on the table—losing the one he’d picked out.

“Eric.” Hyesung put his hands on his hips—he knew he looked like he was scolding a child, but he didn’t care. They had been spending almost every day together—when Hyesung didn’t have classes, anyway—and Eric hadn’t even mentioned it in passing.

“Don’t be angry with me. I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Eric said, using a cute tone of voice Hyesung had never heard him adopt before.

“What do you mean by that?” Hyesung asked, immediately softening to the cuteness—even if it was kind of gross.

“I just wanted to spend a normal day with you. Maybe you and Jinnie. I really don’t feel like celebrating, or anything, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Eric explained—visibly relieved that Hyesung didn’t seem angry anymore.

“You could have just told me that. At least give me a chance to do something more special for you. And get you a gift. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, but we should celebrate,” Hyesung said, letting Eric get close, and wrap his arms around him.

“You’re special enough, Hyesung-ie. I don’t need anything else,” Eric said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“And you’re cheesy,” Hyesung said. But the conference room, and the not-quite-velvet bench, were suddenly on his mind again.

 

* * *

“Don’t you think I should do something for him?” Hyesung asked, resting his chin in his hands. Junjin considered the question for a minute—chewing a bite of pizza more slowly than he’d ever eaten anything in his life.

“I don’t know, hyung. If he says he doesn’t want to do anything, maybe you shouldn’t. Then again, you want to do something special for him, so maybe you should,” Junjin said, shrugging.

Hyesung had been asking the same question in different ways for a half hour, but, to Junjin’s credit, he had yet to lose patience.

“Do you think he actually wants to do nothing for his birthday? Or is he just saying that?” Hyesung asked.

“He doesn’t seem like the type of person to say something like that if he didn’t mean it. But if you want to do something special, I think you should. It can still be something small,” Junjin suggested.

He looked exhausted—he said it was school, but Hyesung couldn’t be sure. He was paler than usual, and Hyesung noticed his hands shaking whenever he reached for his soda. Even his usually cheerful smile was starting to waver. Hyesung wished he had invited Eric out to lunch with them—Eric always had a way of making Junjin laugh—a talent Hyesung didn’t so easily possess. Then again, with their conversation topic, it would have been difficult to have him there.

Junjin was right about Eric, of course. He wouldn’t say he didn’t want to make a big deal of it, if he really did. And Hyesung couldn’t imagine what sort of party he could throw for him, anyway, since he didn’t know anyone to invite. He sighed, deeply, and tried to smooth the frown lines from his forehead.

“Maybe you could buy him a bottle of wine, or something,” Junjin said. “You two can still be alone. But it might feel more celebratory that way.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Hyesung said. It wasn’t a bad suggestion. He couldn’t tell Junjin that he was only hesitant because he had trouble keeping his hands off of Eric sober—if he was drinking, it would be even worse. He didn’t know anything about wine, but Eric didn’t seem like a connoisseur, either. Picking out a bottle wouldn’t be difficult. And maybe he could even get a cake.

“Don’t think too hard about it, hyung. I know him well enough to know that he’ll love anything you plan for him. He likes you that much.” Junjin smiled at him, reassuringly. Sometimes, Hyesung felt like the younger sibling. Junjin had to take care of him way too much.

“Thanks, Jinnie. You sure you can’t make it? He said he’d like for you to be there,” Hyesung said.

“I can’t. School. Plus, you know, mom and dad. They’re asking a lot of questions about where I go. I don’t normally hang out with friends that much, so they’re starting to get suspicious,” Junjin said, ruffling his own hair, furiously. “Sorry. I really want to be there. But it will be more…romantic…if it’s just the two of you, anyway.”

“It’s OK. I don’t want you to get in trouble. We should be more careful from now on,” Hyesung said. Even though he’d been seeing more of Junjin, they rarely talked about their parents. Both brothers preferred to pretend their meetings were as normal as possible—so they never brought them up. Plus, Eric was usually with them, and Hyesung still wasn’t comfortable telling Eric about his personal problems.

“Yeah,” Junjin agreed. Normally, he didn’t seem to care about whether their parents found out or not, but his exhaustion seemed to be getting to him. Strangely, even though Hyesung felt much happier and at ease than he had in months, Junjin and Eric both seemed more distant and sad. It worried him, and made him feel guilty, that he could feel even the slightest happiness when they were both upset about something.

“Let’s get you home, then,” Hyesung, said. He stood up, and stretched.

The park was mostly empty—it was too cold for much activity, and a Friday afternoon on top of that. Their pizza was mostly untouched. Junjin hadn’t had much of an appetite, and Hyesung had talked so much. Plus, it got cold as soon as they walked outside with it. Hyesung picked up the box—he would take it home with him, in case Eric came over. It would save them from having to figure out what to have delivered.

“You know I love you, right, hyung?” Junjin asked, suddenly. When Hyesung turned to look at him, the expression on his face was so fierce, it was almost frightening.

“Of course I know, Jin-ah,” he said. “You know I love you too, don’t you?”

“I know, hyung,” Junjin responded, his expression immediately replaced by the most dejected smile Hyesung had ever seen. He held his arms out, and Hyesung walked into them.

“What’s wrong, Jinnie?” he asked. Hyesung hugged him, stroking the back of his head like a child’s.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Junjin said. When he pulled away, his smile was more normal, but Hyesung wanted to cry.

“You’ll let me know if you need anything, won’t you?” Hyesung asked, studying his face.

“My ride is here. Let me know how your date goes!” Junjin said, walking off with that strained smile still on his face.

 

* * *

It had taken Hyesung a full two days to pick out a cake, a bottle of wine, and a birthday present for Eric. In spite of knowing that Eric couldn’t care less about any of those things, Hyesung cared. It was always Eric who planned their “dates”, and he wanted to do something nice in return—to show him that even though he was bad at the whole dating thing, he really was trying.

In the end, he had picked out a chocolate cake—not really knowing if Eric liked chocolate or not. He had never seen him eat any, but couldn’t imagine a person not liking it. And he had summoned up his courage to ask someone at the store what type of wine would go well with it. The girl, who seemed too young to have even tasted wine, suggested cabernet sauvignon, and Hyesung bought a cheap bottle.

The present was more difficult. Nothing fell into his lap like the cigarette case had. At first, Hyesung thought about buying Eric a lighter to match it, but for some reason the idea bothered him. He smoked, and it was none of his business if Eric did, but somehow he didn’t want to encourage the habit anymore than he already had. Watching Eric climb stairs was already pathetic enough.

Finally, he had settled on a coffee mug. Hyesung only owned one mug, so when Eric slept over they had to share their coffee—and they both liked coffee too much to share. It was boring, and not very romantic, but Hyesung wasn’t sure if “romantic” was something he was going for, anyway. More like useful and thoughtful, and he thought the mug fit both criteria.

Eric’s birthday fell on a Monday, which was nice. Hyesung didn’t have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so they would be able to spend the entire next day together after drinking—they could stay in bed and watch movies on Hyesung’s laptop, and eat cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ostensibly, Eric had some sort of job, but he didn’t seem to go to work very often. Every moment Hyesung had to spend time with him, Eric was free to be there.

On his birthday, Eric had to spend time with his parents, though. So Hyesung beat him to the apartment to get his gifts set up. He hadn’t bothered cooking—he wasn’t good at it anyway—but he had thought ahead and bought some fast food on his way home. Nothing fancy, but Eric wasn’t picky, anyway, and it would avoid the awkward pseudo-romantic atmosphere Hyesung was afraid of creating.

Eric arrived at exactly eight o’clock. Hyesung had just gotten out of the shower, and was pulling a t-shirt over his head, when he heard him knock. He rushed to the door with his hair soaking wet, and dripping on his clean shirt.

“Didn’t expect me to be on time?” Eric asked, smiling, when the door was open.

“No. You never are,” Hyesung said. Eric looked him over, from top to bottom, and took a deep breath.

“You do have a point,” he admitted. “And you look amazing, so I’ll let it slide.”

Hyesung sighed, and held the door open. No matter how many times Eric said it, it still made him feel like crying.

“Did you have a good time with your parents?” Hyesung asked, closing the door behind them. Eric kicked off his shoes, and padded into the kitchen as soon as he was through the doorway.

“It was OK. Is this cake for me?” Eric’s face lit up in childlike excitement at the sight of it. Hyesung had had “Happy Birthday Eric” written on it, even though it had cost an extra $3 for personalization.

“Yes. But you have to eat your dinner first,” Hyesung said. Eric seemed so delighted, Hyesung couldn’t help but smile with him—especially since he had seemed so down the last couple of times they’d seen each other.

“Yes, mom,” Eric said, obediently. “Are we ordering out?”

“I got you a burger on the way home.” Hyesung pointed to the bag at the opposite end of the counter. With any luck, they were probably still warm.

“Wow. Perfect man, Shin Hyesung. Burgers and cake. I’m sort of glad you found out about my birthday, now,” Eric said, sticking his tongue out. Out of anyone else’s mouth, it might have sounded sarcastic, but Eric was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“Eat your dinner and you can have cake,” Hyesung said, hiding a smile behind his hand.

Eric grabbed the cake and the bag of burgers, and headed toward the couch immediately.

“Come on. Let’s eat, then,” he said, holding the bag in the air. Hyesung wrinkled his nose, and ignored the order, walking into the kitchen to get the wine from its hiding place in one of his unused cabinets.

“Do you want to drink this with your cake?” he asked, his back still turned. Suddenly, he was starting to feel shy. Despite all of his efforts, the situation began to feel intimate as soon as he picked up the bottle.

“You got wine, too? Come here. I’m going to kiss you,” Eric said, laughing again.

“Yeah. I got you this, too,” Hyesung said, grabbing the present, which he had hidden in the oven—an appliance he never used. He carried everything to the couch, and sat as far away from Eric as possible, so he could watch his expression.

“Can I open it?” Eric asked, already pulling the paper out of the top of the bag.

“Go ahead.”

Eric stuck his hand in, and fished out the mug.

“You mean we don’t have to share coffee, anymore?” he asked, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s not much, but…” Hyesung said, folding his hands in his lap, nervously.

“I’m going to miss sharing your germs, Hyesung-ie, but I still love it. It’s going to be hard to get rid of me now that I have my own cup, though. Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” Hyesung replied. His voice was softer than he meant it to be, and Eric looked up at him, tilting his head to the side.

“You didn’t need to do all of this, you know. Hanging out with you would have been enough,” he said. He put the mug down on the coffee table, then slid closer to Hyesung.

“What are you doing?” Hyesung asked. His whole body was on fire, already, and Eric hadn’t even touched him yet.

“I told you I’m going to kiss you,” Eric said. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Hyesung’s cheek, and pulled away smiling. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Just eat your dinner. You don’t have to thank me.” Hyesung’s voice was wavering, but he managed to sound properly unimpressed by Eric’s affection.

“All right, all right.”

 

* * *

 

When they had both eaten, Eric wasted no time cutting the cake. Hyesung opened the bottle of wine, and poured it into their mugs. It wasn’t very good—but Hyesung never liked wine, anyway. Eric seemed to enjoy it. He was as enthusiastic about it as he was about the cake and the mug, anyway, and he didn’t make any faces when he sipped it—more than Hyesung could say for himself.

By the time the bottle was gone, Hyesung was in Eric’s lap. A half of a bottle wasn’t enough for him to be completely drunk, and he knew Eric wasn’t, either, but it was enough to make some of his anxieties fade away.

“Happy Birthday,” he said, close to Eric’s ear. Eric turned his head, slightly, and kissed him on the cheek again.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He cupped Hyesung’s face in his hand, pressing a line of kisses from his ear to his mouth. “Everything is perfect.”

“You’re welcome.” He moved, so he was straddling Eric’s lap, and looked into his eyes. His cheeks were burning from a combination of the alcohol and his embarrassment, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. At the very least, he wanted to look at Eric’s gorgeous face up close. Even if that’s where things ended for the night.

Eric rested his hands on Hyesung’s waist, and he stared back at him, smiling slightly.

“You really are beautiful, you know,” Eric said, tilting his head back to get a better look. Hyesung blushed deeper, but didn’t shake his head or argue, like he would have liked to. He was too busy concentrating on innocent thoughts—thoughts that didn’t involve the obscene things he would like to be doing on Eric’s lap.

It wasn’t working. Eric’s hands were under his shirt, lightly touching his sides, and his stomach, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.

“Eric,” he said, when he had gained at least a small semblance of control over his own voice. Eric’s hands moved up, touching his chest, fleetingly, and brushing over his nipples with his thumbs. Hyesung moaned, in spite of his best efforts, and dropped his forehead on Eric’s shoulder. “I want you. Now.”

“Happy Birthday to me,” Eric said, pulling his shirt over his head.

 

* * *

 

Hyesung couldn’t stop saying his name, “Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric.” He was moaning and hoarse, but the name kept pouring out of him, over and over again, in a small, raspy voice that he couldn’t control. He felt close, but he couldn’t say it—couldn’t say anything except Eric’s name. It was better, even, than he remembered. Eric’s hands, all over him, and his mouth making contact wherever it could.

Then, suddenly, Eric wasn’t inside of him anymore. He was pushing him down against the bed, still on his knees, looking down at him.

“Eric,” Hyesung said again, “please don’t stop.” He didn’t want to beg, but he needed this.

Eric crawled forward on his knees, then leaned over him. And then, he did something even stranger. Still hovering over Hyesung, he kissed the back of his head, lightly, not seeming to mind the sweat. He kissed again, right under the hairline, on the right side of his neck, sucking gently, and then moved to the other side to kiss there, too.

“Eric, please,” Hyesung begged. Eric’s mouth on the nape of his neck felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. Eric sat up again, on his knees, and put his hands on Hyesung’s shoulders, helping him roll over. Hyesung stared up at him, still wondering what was going on, and Eric leaned down again, licking Hyesung’s lips, then pulling the bottom one into his mouth. He did the same to the top lip, then moved to kiss Hyesung’s ear, biting it very gently, and flicking his tongue over it.

“Eric,” Hyesung begged again. He could feel Eric smile against his ear, and he pulled away, moving his body down. Hyesung clawed at the sheets as Eric repositioned himself between his knees.

“I want to look at you,” Eric said, voice very low. Hyesung couldn’t help but maintain eye contact as Eric lined himself up, slipping inside.

“Eric,” Hyesung moaned again, one hand finding Eric’s thigh and squeezing it. “Start moving.”

Eric moved. Very slowly. Never looking away from Hyesung’s face, with such a strange expression that Hyesung couldn’t help but continue to look at him, too. This time, he didn’t need to keep saying Eric’s name, but he wanted to.

“Eric, Eric, Eric,” he whispered—even softer this time. He had never felt closer to the other man, even though this position was one they had used before. The look in Eric’s eyes…it was something different, too. Lust, but something more complex. Hyesung started wondering, vacantly, if it was his own feeling of closeness—of tenderness, even—for Eric that made him see it that way.

But he didn’t want to pull himself out of the moment by wondering about it. And he didn’t want to close his eyes and ignore it, either. Instead, he concentrated on maintaining eye contact, as best as possible, and continued to whisper and moan Eric’s name with every movement.

Hyesung came first, but Eric wasn’t far behind him. He lowered Hyesung’s knees, then crawled over him a bit to throw the condom away.

“Hyesung,” he said, hovering over him again, arms shaking. Hyesung looked up, eyes half-lidded. It was the first time Eric had said his name in bed—he was unusually quiet during sex, which Hyesung more than made up for.

“Mmm?” Hyesung asked. His voice was raw, and he didn’t know if he could speak for a while. His throat wasn’t the only thing that hurt—his chest felt tight, too. The expression on Eric’s face was starting to weigh on him.

Rather than answer, Eric fell down next to him, and pulled Hyesung’s head onto his chest. Hyesung’s heart was already hammering from exertion, and he could feel Eric’s pulse in every part of his body, but somehow, lying so close to the other man made it beat even faster. He was shaking, and sweating, and it wasn’t all because of how exhausted he was.

Before he knew it, he felt tears stinging his eyes, and he couldn’t hold them back.

At first, Eric didn’t seem to notice, but the way he was shaking and sniffling tipped him off. Eric pulled his face back, a little, to look at him.

“Hyesung-ie, what’s wrong?” he asked, stroking his cheek with one hand. “Are you OK? Did I hurt you?”

Hyesung tried to turn his face away, but Eric wouldn’t let him.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Eric whispered, pulling Hyesung’s face back onto his chest, and stroking the back of his head.

“It’s nothing. I’m not hurt. It just…feels good,” Hyesung said, after a while. It was hard to get the words out, in between sobs. He wasn’t able to control himself anymore, and he knew he was getting snot and slobber all over Eric’s chest. Not that it mattered, as they were already in desperate need of a shower, but it wasn’t very attractive.

“I’ve never fucked someone so well they cried before,” Eric said, kissing Hyesung on the forehead, and continuing to rub the back of his head softly. Hyesung smiled, a little, through the tears, but didn’t respond.

He was exhausted—mentally and physically. He wanted to just fall asleep, but he kept thinking about the way Eric had looked at him, and everything that he wanted that look to mean. It was difficult enough that he couldn’t sort out his own feelings, without having to try and decipher Eric’s. Maybe it was because he had waited so long, but he definitely knew he didn’t want to let Eric go. He could figure out the rest when he woke up.

“Hyesung,” Eric whispered again, breaking into his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Hyesung responded, sniffling. He snuggled his face deeper into Eric’s chest. The exhaustion was catching up with him, and he could hardly hold his eyes open.

“I’m in love with you.”

Hyesung felt his entire body go tense. He tried to pull his face away from Eric’s chest, but the hand on the back of his head wouldn’t let him.

“Please, Hyesung. Don’t worry about it. I’m not asking anything of you, but please don’t push me away right now. Push me away tomorrow, if you want to. Whatever you want. But not right now.”

Hyesung didn’t know why, but his body started to relax again, as he felt Eric continue to stroke his hair. He wanted to panic—wanted to stand up and run away—but, somehow, he couldn’t. Eric’s request wasn’t unreasonable, and, despite the strangeness of the situation, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote part of this chapter (literally) months ago and have been trying to edit it down into nothingness ever since. But since that didn't work, and melting into the floor and disappearing didn't work, I went ahead and posted it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short, and not that great, but I was tired of editing it endlessly ^^;;;

It was cold. It was cold, and it shouldn’t have been. Hyesung wasn’t quite sure why he expected it to be warm—it was February. It was supposed to be cold. Especially in his apartment, with the small electric heaters, the cracks in the ceiling, and the towels he’d padded around the windows and doors to make it less drafty. But not that morning. That morning it was supposed to be warm. He was sure of it.

He cracked an eye open, looking around him. For starters, he was naked. That was unusual. Most of the time, he bundled up to sleep. He had a habit of kicking his blankets off, and waking up shaking. Plus, being naked made him feel vulnerable.

There were two mugs on his nightstand, too. And he only owned one. It was like someone else was supposed to be there.

Eric. The second mug was Eric’s. And he was naked because he and Eric had sex. Again. Finally. He blushed, thinking about it, and pressed his face back into the pillow. It was his. He had it for years. But, after only a couple of months, it smelled more like Eric.

Eric, who should be tangled up in the sheets with him—keeping him warm. Eric who, the night before, had told him he was in love with him. He buried his face deeper into the pillow. He still didn’t know how to feel about that. Mostly, he was nervous. Terrified, even. Love was something strange and distant—something only his family had ever felt for him—and, probably, something he didn’t deserve. But Eric had said it so fluently, like it was true.

He lifted his head from the pillow, looking around. Where was Eric, anyway? It wasn’t like him to make breakfast, and there was nothing to cook, anyway. Probably eating birthday cake in the kitchen. Hyesung smiled. Eric, his _boyfriend_ , was in the kitchen eating birthday cake. Eric, who loved him, was probably wondering if he was planning on sleeping all day.

He stretched, and groaned, remembering again that he wasn’t wearing anything. Eric had seen every inch of him, but the thought of facing him without clothes after the night before was too embarrassing. Hyesung fished around the edge of the bed, grabbing for anything he could put on without having to get up. He found a shirt—it was his—and some boxers—also his. Lucky, although it would have been sort of nice to put on Eric’s clothes the morning after he confessed. Cozy, even. Domestic. Something Hyesung had never expected himself to be, or want to be.

He pulled on the shirt and the boxers, under the covers, and tried to get himself ready. Eric was very quiet—probably trying not to wake him—and he smiled, again, at the thought. Eric loved him, so it made sense that he would try and be careful not to wake him. It should have been terrifying—it was terrifying, in a way—but it was also nice, being loved.

“Eric? What are you doing?” Hyesung asked, opening his bedroom door. The air was so cold out there that he shivered, and grabbed a blanket off of his bed. What was Eric doing out there, without the heat on? There was no sense in freezing to death, trying to save on electricity. Eric kept trying to give him money on his bills, since he was there all the time, anyway. But Hyesung never took it. As far as he was concerned, Eric could use his utilities as much as he wanted. It was worth it, for being able to stay close to him, and touch him whenever he wanted.

“Eric?” Hyesung called, again, padding into the living room. Maybe he had fallen asleep on the couch. It was something he would do. He fell asleep quicker than anyone Hyesung had ever met. Then again, usually when Eric was sleepy he liked to cuddle. It would be a little unusual if he didn’t bother Hyesung, at least a little, before going back to sleep.

“Eric?” He wasn’t on the couch. He wasn’t standing in the kitchen, either. Hyesung pulled the blanket tighter around his body. He hated the way his heart had already dropped to the pit of his stomach. Eric was gone. He wasn’t in the apartment. His shoes were gone, and, after going back into the bedroom to check, so were his clothes. 

Hyesung was shaking, and not just from the cold. He sat down on the couch, and created a cocoon out of the blanket, until only his face was peeking out. Maybe Eric had wanted something more than just cake for breakfast, and had gone out to buy something. He had always ordered out before, though. He was as resistant as Hyesung to the idea of going out to buy things. He preferred staying in and ordering their meals—especially when it was cold.

There were two empty packs of cigarettes on the coffee table. Maybe Eric had gone out to buy some more. That was more likely.

Hyesung smiled, again. That was probably it. Eric was definitely a nicotine addict. It made sense that he wouldn’t be able to make it through the morning without a cigarette. But why would he leave without telling him? Or leaving a note, at least. Or sending him a text message. He dug himself out of the blanket cocoon, and went to the bedroom for his phone. No message. There was nothing on the fridge, or the kitchen counter, either. Or the nightstand. Or the coffee table.

But Eric could be distracted and forgetful, so it was likely that he just didn’t think about it. Or maybe he thought Hyesung would sleep until he got back.

Hyesung turned on the coffee maker, and ran some warm water into the mugs from the night before. If Eric was out for cigarettes, the least he could do was make some coffee. He liked caffeine almost as much as he liked nicotine. Hyesung smiled again, thinking about him. Just the night before Eric had said Hyesung wouldn’t be able to get rid of him if he had his own mug, and Hyesung liked the idea. Waking up naked every morning, preferably with Eric next to him—they would just have to remember cigarettes before bed—would be nice.

It would be nice to hear those words—“I love you”—more often. Until the warmth that spread through his body, thinking about it, wasn’t accompanied by a mixture of fear and inadequacy. He was sure Eric could be counted on to keep saying it. He wasn’t usually one to blurt his feelings out, but he was always honest. If Hyesung asked him, he would say it.

The only drawback was, he might expect Hyesung to return the words. And he didn’t think he could do that. Yet. His feelings for Eric were definitely warm—sometimes so warm that they set his body on fire, thinking about him. The feelings made his pulse race, and his palms sweat. But they were more than physical, too. He liked touching Eric, but he also liked making him smile, and hearing his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was love—that thought was still too terrifying, and alien—but Eric said he wouldn’t ask anything of him. Eric understood, and would give him time.

While the coffee maker worked its magic, he went to the bedroom to pull more clothes on. He found a sweater, some socks, and a pair of sweatpants in a pile on the floor. Eric must have gotten fully dressed before leaving. Not even a single sock was there. If it hadn’t been for the mug, the wine bottle, and the cake, Hyesung might have thought he had dreamt the events of the night before.

Eric must have been cold when he woke up. Hyesung frowned, and went to turn on the electric heater in the living room. It would be a waste of the day to sit around in outerwear.

His stomach was starting to growl, but he didn’t want to eat any of the cake until Eric got back, in case he was buying something else. It was taking him forever. The coffee had finished brewing, and according to the clock on the stove, Hyesung had been out of bed for almost an hour. He had been sure that Eric wouldn’t go further than the store a couple of blocks away, and even if he walked, it shouldn’t have taken so long. Not unless he had gone on a shopping spree—also very unlike him.

By the time he finished his first cup of coffee, Hyesung was starting to feel pouty. It wasn’t nice of Eric to leave him alone after a night like that without even leaving a note. What if Eric’s confession had scared him more, and he was home alone, having a panic attack?

He sipped the second cup more slowly, but by the time it was gone, Eric still hadn’t returned. Hyesung was starting to feel anxious. The caffeine wasn’t helping, but it had been a long time. Eric should have been back by then, or should have called, at least, if something was holding him up. Maybe there had been an emergency. Or an accident.

Hyesung picked up his phone again, and opened the internet browser with shaking fingers. The church website was set as his homepage. If something terrible had happened, the prayer list would have been updated. But no. The last update had been minutes ago, and Eric’s name wasn’t there. Hyesung was relieved, but not entirely. What if something had happened to him and nobody knew?

His anxiety outweighed his pride, and he dialed Eric’s number. Straight to voicemail. The phone was turned off. Hyesung didn’t leave a message. Eric would be back soon. Or he would turn his phone on and call him. Eric wouldn’t leave him there alone with no explanation. Eric loved him.

 

* * *

It had been two weeks, and Eric hadn’t come back, or contacted him. Hyesung had even called the church, with a shaking voice, to ask if he was OK, and the lady who answered said yes—she had seen him at the laundromat with his sister just the evening before.

He said the word “love” and then he left. He pretended like Hyesung didn’t exist.

Hyesung hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed. He fell asleep on the couch that first night, after waiting for Eric for hours, and it still didn’t feel right to crawl back under the covers without him.

The pain was unbearable. Hyesung wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to live with it. At school, things were worse. Even being called on by a teacher made him dissolve into tears. He couldn’t focus in class, and most of the time he couldn’t even force himself to shower and put on clothes and get in his car to go to campus.

He hadn’t even been able to talk to Junjin, outside of the occasional text message. Their parents had become more suspicious, and even if they hadn’t, Hyesung didn’t want Junjin to know what had happened. It would only worry him, and make him sad, and Hyesung couldn’t cause his brother any more heartache—especially when he couldn’t trust himself not to break down and cry as soon as Eric’s name was mentioned.

Sleeping should have been hard, too, but it was the only thing that was easy. His nightmares, where Eric left him, were a thousand times worse—exponentially more painful—but at least he could see Eric in them. He was so cruel, but he was there. Most of the time, even in nightmares, Eric insisted he loved him. That was the most painful part. Even as he abandoned him, or watched him die, he was always saying it—“I’m in love with you, Hyesung. I love you.”

It was a Thursday, and Hyesung huddled on the couch, with a thin blanket over him. The weather was a little warmer, but mostly he wanted to punish himself. He had pushed Eric away—he had panicked that first night and Eric hadn’t come back—so he deserved to be cold. He deserved as much suffering as he was going through, and more.

His phone was ringing, but it wasn’t Eric. Even if it was Eric, he didn’t want to speak to him. Eric deserved to be punished, too. People shouldn’t be allowed to say “I love you” and then run away before explaining what it means, and making it OK. If Eric wanted to talk to him, he would have to come in person. He would have to bring his soothing touch. The thought of Eric’s hands made Hyesung shudder, near tears. No matter how angry and lost he felt, he still wanted Eric to touch him.

Whoever it was had left a voicemail. Hyesung wasn’t interested in listening, but he did, anyway. He had been sleeping for hours, and he couldn’t make himself doze off again. It was a woman’s voice.

“Mr. Shin, I’m a nurse at Monroe General Hospital. I’m calling you because you’re listed as Junjin Shin’s emergency contact. Please call back as soon as possible. It’s very important. Thank you.”

Hyesung dropped the phone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide TW. Nothing detailed or graphic, but please feel free to ask me if you're afraid you might be triggered.

“Hyesung? This is a surprise. What’s up?”  
  
“I...do you…if you’re not busy, do you think you could give me a ride to the hospital? I don’t…” Hyesung tried to blink back the tears, but they were choking him.  
  
“Is everything OK? Why do you need to go to the hospital? Where are you?”  
  
“I’m…I’m sorry to bother you. But my brother…and I don’t think I can drive…” Hyesung was sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe. It was hard to speak, much less make it to the hospital on his own.  
  
“Yeah. Of course. Just tell me where you are. I’ll leave now.”  
  
“I’ll text you. Thanks,” Hyesung said, ending the call to save himself the embarrassment of more sobs and labored breathing. Normally, he didn’t like to make phone calls. But he hadn’t had a choice.  
  
He leaned against the kitchen counter and pressed his lips together, tightly, willing them to stop trembling. He couldn’t fall apart. He needed to hold himself together.

* * *

  
“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Minwoo along,” Dongwan said, meeting Hyesung on the stairs. “He was with me when you called, and we were both worried about you.”  
  
“Of course not,” Hyesung said, trying to smile. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t have anyone else to ask.”  
  
He had splashed some water on his face, but he knew he still looked terrible. Not that it mattered, but he didn’t want anyone to worry about him—especially not Dongwan and Minwoo, who barely knew him.  
  
“I’m glad you called. You shouldn’t have to go to the hospital alone,” Dongwan said, touching his elbow lightly.  
  
Hyesung pulled away, and nodded, leading the way to the parking lot.  
  
Minwoo was waiting in the drivers’ seat, hands clenching the steering wheel, as if he were ready to pull away at any second. He was parked in the fire lane, so he probably was.  
  
“Hey,” Hyesung said, crawling into the back seat.  
  
“You can sit in the front. Dongwan will get in the back,” Minwoo said.  
  
“No. I’d…rather sit back here,” Hyesung said, trying to force another smile. His eyes were already filling with tears.  
  
Minwoo nodded to him, in the rearview mirror, and smiled.  
  
“It’s going to be OK, Hyesung. Don’t worry.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Hyesung’s hands tightened around the seatbelt across his chest. Dongwan and Minwoo were talking, and trying to fill up the silence. He knew they were trying to distract him, but he couldn’t focus—ever since the call had come, it was like he hadn’t been able to form a single intact thought. For a minute, when he was trying to decide what to do, he had almost called Eric.  
  
Jinnie liked Eric, and would want him there.  
  
Hyesung wiped the tears from his chin and cheeks roughly with the back of his hand, and avoided Dongwan’s gaze in the rearview mirror. For some reason, his classmate had been the only person he could think of to call. There was no one else who had shown him any kindness, so it made sense, but he was still ashamed of himself. Minwoo and Dongwan barely knew him. They shouldn’t have had to pick him up like this—crying, and ruining their evening. They probably had plans. He hadn’t even wondered about what he might have been interrupting.  
  
Hyesung’s fractured thoughts were so scattered and painful they made time extend until the twenty minute drive to the hospital was endless. Dongwan and Minwoo didn’t attempt to draw him into the conversation, and he was grateful—he wouldn’t have been able to focus on what they were saying, anyway.  
  
“Should we go in with you?” Dongwan asked, turning in his seat to look at Hyesung.  
  
“Of course we should. He shouldn’t go in alone,” Minwoo said, unbuckling his seatbelt.  
  
“No. Please. I’m…grateful…but please,” Hyesung said, combing his hair into his eyes with his fingers. He had finally stopped crying, but he didn’t want his puffy eyes to be so obvious. The hospital staff would think he wasn’t responsible enough to be Jinnie’s emergency contact.  
  
“We should at least walk in with you,” Minwoo said, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.  
  
“You’ve done a lot already. You should enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Hyesung fumbled for the door handle, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.  
  
“Should we wait here?” Dongwan asked.  
  
“I’ll probably stay all night. But thank you. It means a lot to me that you two would…” Hyesung felt tears filling his eyes again. That they would do what? Be there for him when even the person he had trusted the most had abandoned him? When even his baby brother hadn’t told him how badly he was hurting?  
  
“Of course. We’re your friends,” Dongwan said, smiling.  
  
“Call us if you need us. We’ll come pick you up,” Minwoo said.  
  
Hyesung nodded, and closed the door.  
  
Friends? Any other day the word might have cheered him up.

* * *

  
The nurse had asked him to go to the third floor when he arrived at the hospital, so Hyesung hurried to the elevator. He had wasted a lot of time with Minwoo and Dongwan, and he was worried that Junjin may have gotten worse.  
  
She was waiting for him, as promised, at the desk.  
  
“You must be Junjin’s brother,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad you got here all right. He started asking for you as soon as he woke up.”  
  
“He’s…awake?” Hyesung asked. It was the first hopeful thing anyone had said to him in two weeks.  
  
“Yes. He woke up right after I called you. He’s waiting for you now,” she said. Her smile was reassuring, but Hyesung wanted to sink into one of the chairs in the waiting area and break down again.  
  
“It’s…it’s OK if I see him?” he managed to say.  
  
“He’s being monitored very closely, but it should be fine. He was very lucid when the doctor was talking to him earlier, and very clear about wanting to see you. Did you come alone? He said you would probably bring someone. We can only allow one person in the room at a time,” the nurse explained.  
  
“He couldn’t make it,” Hyesung said, digging his fingers into his thighs.  
  
“Let’s go see your brother, then. Are you ready?”  
  
Hyesung stopped at the water fountain to splash his face with water, and wipe it off with his sleeve. If the nurse thought it was strange, she didn’t say anything.

* * *

  
“You’re here,” Junjin said, as soon as Hyesung walked into the room. He was sitting up in bed. Hyesung wasn’t sure what he had expected. A less lively response? A response less like Junjin? But his brother was acting almost normal, considering the circumstances.  
  
Biting his lip and nodding, Hyesung took a seat next to the bed. Tears were choking him again, and he tried to fight them back. He couldn’t fall apart.  
  
“Did Eric come with you? Is he in the waiting room?” Junjin asked, leaning around Hyesung to look out into the hallway through the windows.  
  
“How are you?” Hyesung asked. It was a stupid question. If Junjin was doing well, he wouldn’t be there, but Hyesung had to ask. He didn’t know what else to say.  
  
“I’m fine,” Junjin said. The smile on his face stiffened, and Hyesung realized how fake it had been—how bad things really were. Any encouragement he had felt at hearing Junjin was awake and talking immediately dissipated.  
  
He had been thinking it, ever since he left the house: why hadn’t he noticed how much pain his brother was in? When Junjin acted strange at the park, why hadn’t he held onto him? Why hadn’t he checked up on him more often?  
  
“Jinnie,” Hyesung said, reaching for his brother’s hand. Junjin hurriedly pulled his arm away, covering the bandages with his sheets.  
  
“I’m fine. I was stupid. I made a mistake. Didn’t they tell you I called for an ambulance myself?” Junjin said, smiling again, more tentatively. Hyesung noticed that his bottom lip was trembling.  
  
“But Jinnie. You tried to…”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Junjin said, still smiling. “Isn’t there something else we should talk about? I’m really fine. I’m just tired.”  
  
There was nothing else Hyesung wanted to talk about. He needed to know. He wanted to understand what had happened. And he wanted to hear more from his brother than that he was fine.  
  
“Sure. We can talk about anything you want to,” he said, wiping more tears away with the back of his hand. He hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Jinnie, but it was hard not to. It was hard to hold himself together.  
  
“Where is Eric? Didn’t he come with you?” Junjin asked, again.  
  
“Eric…I haven’t seen much of Eric lately,” Hyesung admitted, wiping more tears away, and trying to smile. He wanted it to be OK. Desperately. He wanted Junjin not to worry about it, or worry about him, but the tears wouldn’t stop.  
  
“What? Why not? Did you two break up?” Junjin asked. Hyesung’s heart dropped at the look of devastation on his brother’s face.  
  
“Well, we were never really together,” Hyesung said, bowing his head. He couldn’t meet Jinnie’s eyes while he disappointed him.  
  
“Hyung…”  
  
“It’s OK,” Hyesung said, staring at his hands. He hadn’t noticed how much he had chewed his nails lately, but they were disgusting.  
  
“Why did you break up with him?” Junjin asked, after a minute.  
  
Hyesung looked up, surprised.  
  
“What? Why do you think I was the one who broke up with him?” he asked, frowning. That didn’t make sense. How could he break up with Eric when he…his heart started pounding at the sudden thought of Eric’s hand on the small of his back, and his lips on his jaw.  
  
“The way Eric looks at you,” Junjin said, voice lifting in surprise. “He wouldn’t break up with you when he looks at you like that.”  
  
“How does he look at me?” Hyesung asked. He knew the look Junjin meant. He had noticed it, too. But he needed to hear it from someone else’s mouth. He needed someone to define it.  
  
“Like he’s in love with you. You really hadn’t noticed?” Junjin asked, matching his brother’s frown.  
  
Hyesung swallowed, hard, and shook his head.  
  
“Well, how do I look at him?”  
  
“Like…you’re afraid of him. Like he’s something you’re about to lose at any second. Like he’s something you can’t understand,” Junjin answered, seriously.  
  
Hyesung covered his face with his hands and sighed.  
  
“Tell me what happened, hyung,” Junjin said. His tone was gentle, and coaxing, but Hyesung felt commanded, somehow.  
  
He looked up to meet his brother’s eyes.  
  
“He told me he loved me,” he whispered. He couldn’t say the words at full volume. He had barely been able to convince himself, especially over the past couple of days, that they were real.  
  
“And you broke up with him,” Junjin said, sighing.  
  
“And he left me.”

* * *

  
When Hyesung left, Junjin looked exhausted. He wanted to stay, but visiting hours were strictly enforced, and Jinnie had begged him not to be there when their parents arrived the next morning. They were out of town, but they would find out soon enough, and they would be there. Hyesung thought he could take it—for Jinnie—but Junjin had begged him not to.  
  
Junjin had also begged him to try calling Eric and working things out.  
  
He reached the steps outside of the hospital before he collapsed, crying. Minwoo and Dongwan had offered to pick him up, but he didn’t want to face them. He knew they meant well, and they had been kind to give him a ride, but their concern wasn’t what he needed.  
  
He needed Eric.  
  
He was terrified, but he needed him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.  Maybe it was better to hurry and call when he was more terrified not to than he was to dial the number.  
  
The call connected, but went straight to voicemail after a couple of rings. Eric had ignored his call. Hyesung pressed his free hand to the concrete steps, and punched the number for voicemail.  
  
“Eric…it’s me. I don’t know what happened to you, but…” Hyesung paused, and took a shaky breath. He wouldn’t let himself cry. What he was doing was pathetic and needy enough without bursting into tears in the middle of it.  
  
“But,” he started again, “something happened to Jinnie. He’s in the hospital and he’s…I don’t know if he’s OK or not.”  
  
He paused again—it was hard to say aloud, but he needed to say it. He needed Eric to know how desperate he was.  
  
“He tried to kill himself. They bandaged him up and they’re keeping him for now, but I’m so scared. Eric, please. I don’t know where you are or why you didn’t come back, but if you…I believed you when you said you loved me. And I…if you can make it, I’ll be in church tomorrow. Please.”  
  
Eric’s inbox cut him off before he could say anything else.  
  
He hadn’t been able to say “I need you” or “I miss you” but he hoped it would be enough. He hoped Eric could hear and understand his desperation. Because he needed someone—needed Eric, specifically—to make everything OK. Even if Jinnie hadn’t asked him to try, he would have done it. Eric’s touch—his tenderness—was the only thing he could think of that might ease his terror at least a little.  
  
They could talk about what happened between them later. He would forgive Eric, whatever the reason, if he would just be there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hard to write angst when there's been so much exciting stuff happening ;___;


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was later than expected. Lost my laptop charger ;___;  
> Also I wanted to post this as soon as possible and won't have time to edit it for a couple of hours, so if you read it before then feel free to point out any mistakes that need to be corrected ^^

Church started at 9 every Sunday—Eric’s dad was always punctual. But Hyesung was there at 8. He hadn’t been able to sleep and, according to the nurse he’d spoken to that morning, his parents had already reached the hospital. He thought that Eric might go to his apartment before the service—that he would be too anxious to wait until 9—but he had been too anxious, himself, to wait around and find out.  
  
He waited by the entrance where Eric had once waited for him, watching all of the worshippers file through the door. He didn’t know Eric’s mom and sister, but he thought he would recognize them if he saw them. It didn’t seem like they had arrived yet, by 8:30. Maybe Eric would be with them, or maybe Eric was just running a little late.  
  
Hyesung was letting go of his disappointment from the last two weeks as he waited. He knew Eric. It had only been a few months, but he knew that Eric was loyal. He was strange and his sense of humor had a tendency to get him in trouble sometimes and he was almost as oblivious as Hyesung—but he was trustworthy. He would show up, because he knew that he was needed.  
  
By 8:55, Hyesung started to worry that Eric had used the clergy entrance, with his family, and that he was already waiting inside. But he waited, anyway, until 9:05. Just in case. Eric ran late a lot. His phone buzzed, just as he was about to walk inside. His heart was racing. It had to be Eric.  
  
“Are you OK? Still at the hospital?” Minwoo.  
  
Hyesung felt tears sting his eyes and didn’t know why. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. No. There was no reason to cry. Eric was either inside already, or running late. He would be there.

* * *

  
Inside, the place was packed. It seemed even fuller than usual, and the walls were lined with people who couldn’t find seats. Picking Eric out would be impossible, but Hyesung tried, anyway. He frowned as he glanced around the room. It was stupid of Eric to take a seat when it was so packed, but maybe he was watching the entrance. Or maybe he really was late. Hyesung leaned against the wall to wait. Eric would find him if he stood still. All he needed to do was wait, and Eric would take care of him.  
  
Hyesung allowed his thoughts to wander, to what it would feel like when Eric held him. To what Eric’s hair would feel like under his fingers. To what it would feel like to be able to break down, completely, and let Eric put him back together. Even the fantasy was such a relief, he felt lighter. They had things to work out, but that could wait. First, he just wanted Eric’s arms around his waist, and his face in Eric’s neck.  
  
He tried to focus on the sermon—something about an unforgiving servant—having mercy as Christ has mercy. But his mind was elsewhere, and the words couldn’t comfort him. In fact, the longer it went on, the more his comfort slipped away. What was taking Eric so long?  
  
It wasn’t until the choir filed in, and Eric still hadn’t appeared, that he realized. The thought hit him all of a sudden—Eric wasn’t there. Eric wasn’t going to show up. His legs were so weak they could barely support him. He made his way to one of the chairs in the entry way, and burst into tears. His body shook so hard with sobs that he couldn’t try to control or disguise it. He buried his hands in his hair and pulled at it—destroying the work he had put into it in his anticipation of seeing Eric. It was all that could keep him from screaming.  
  
Eric’s father found him there was a little over an hour later. People were beginning to mill around when the pastor tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
“Shin Hyesung?”  
  
Hyesung didn’t want to talk to him—there was no one but Eric he could talk to—but years of listening to the man’s sermons had created such a strong and overriding respect for him that Hyesung couldn’t help but look up.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Would you like to have some coffee in my office? I wanted to talk to you about something,” Eric’s father said. His face looked more worn than the last time Hyesung had seen him up close. He seemed exhausted. And he had Eric’s eyes—or Eric had his. The realization made Hyesung’s chest tighten uncomfortably. He didn’t want to move from his spot. He didn’t want to talk to the man who had grabbed Eric’s arm—the man he looked so much like.  
  
As if sensing his hesitation, the pastor smiled, lips slightly upturned in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but mostly looked sad.  
  
“I think we need to talk about my son.”

* * *

  
Hyesung told Eric’s father he didn’t want coffee but the pastor still poured him a mug and passed the sweetener. For someone who was used to giving long speeches a couple of times a week, he didn’t speak much as they settled in, taking careful sips from their mugs. He was all of Eric’s quiet sensibility, but none of his nervous, excited energy. His voice followed the same patterns Eric’s followed when he tried to be thoughtful, or polite—when he carefully selected his words.  
  
He looked at Hyesung carefully, like he were an intriguing puzzle—one he wasn’t in a particularly big hurry to figure out.  
  
“Did Eric ever tell you about Andy?” the pastor asked, after a while. He hadn’t spoken in a while, and the question startled Hyesung.  
  
“No,” he answered, quickly. The name didn’t ring a bell, and frankly, Hyesung didn’t want to hear about anyone who wasn’t Eric.  
  
“No. He wouldn’t have. But I thought maybe you…” Eric’s father smiled, grimly, and shook his head. “Andy was Eric’s first boyfriend. His first love.”  
  
Hyesung felt sick. He hadn’t gone to the pastor’s office to talk about Eric’s exes—people Eric had loved more than him.  
  
“Andy was 18. He had just graduated high school. He worshipped my son. Followed him everywhere, and kept Eric in line—even his study habits improved when Andy thought he could do better.  
  
But sometimes Andy was withdrawn. He listened to everything that Eric said, but he didn’t have much to say back. His family was going through a hard time—his parents split up—his mom was sick—he was living with his grandma. But he wouldn’t talk to anyone about it. Not even Eric.  
  
Eric knew that something was wrong, and that Andy was hurting, but Andy wouldn’t open up. He wouldn’t say anything at all. I think it really started to wear on Eric. We liked Andy, but we were worried about our son. He tried not to push him too hard, or ask many questions, but it was hard for him.  
  
And then, suddenly, things started getting better. They started making plans for Eric’s birthday. They both seemed excited. I didn’t approve of their relationship, but it was hard not to like Andy. He was polite, soft-spoken, and he made my son happy. So we invited him to church for the Christmas program that year. Andy wasn’t much of a churchgoer but it was our way of letting him know we considered him part of the family.  
  
But that night, Andy said he was sick and he didn’t think he’d be able to make it. Honestly, I thought he was afraid to show up there, because everyone would know.  
  
Eric got a phone call halfway through the service. From Andy’s grandma…,” Eric’s father paused, and squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He sighed, and smiled weakly at Hyesung, who realized he was crying again.  
  
“That’s the thing I regret most. All of us wish there was a way we could have known, of course. A way we could have stopped it from happening. But I wish I could have been the one to take that phone call. I wish I could have kept my son from having to hear Andy’s grandmother sobbing on the phone, and screaming. I wish, if there wasn’t a way to stop it from happening, that it could have happened after Eric’s birthday, at least.  
  
But that’s what happened. Eric wouldn’t go back to school. The first semester, we understood. He wouldn’t leave the house, but he didn’t want to be alone. Someone was with him all the time for the first six months.  
  
Then, that summer, he started going out with his friends again. He told us he was going to get an apartment with one of his friends, so we thought things were looking up. But that Fall he didn’t go back to school, and every time we saw him he was with another guy.  
  
I think he was trying to punish himself. His roommate said he was miserable, and exhausted. He was drinking a lot, and not interested in anything. He still didn’t want to be alone. We begged him to come back home for months, and he wouldn’t. And then, finally, this Fall he said he was going to come home for a few weeks while his roommate was out of town. He was calmer—we thought he stopped bringing home men and drinking—and his mood was better. He even agreed to come back to church. He still worried us—still wouldn’t talk about going back to school, or moving home for good. He still wouldn’t talk about Andy.  
  
And then, I guess, he met you. I think I need to apologize to you for the day we met. I thought Eric was back to his old habits again, just when he seemed to be getting over them. But now I see…I don’t think you can know, Hyesung, how differently he behaved after he met you. He wasn’t like he was before Andy, but he was close.  
  
Before he met you, making him laugh was almost impossible. Even having a short conversation was tense. And then, suddenly, he was different. These past few months, he’s been the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. Even when he tries to hide it—even when he’s anxious, or hurting, he’s been doing so well because he’s had you.”  
  
Hyesung covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want to hear anymore.  
  
“I’m sorry to keep you for so long, but I thought you should know why…,” Eric’s father said, after a moment. “He’s been a disaster for the past couple of weeks. Constantly home, and under my wife’s feet. I finally got it out of him a couple of days ago, what happened between the two of you. I know it’s difficult for you to understand, and it’s probably very difficult for you to forgive him, under the circumstances, but I hope you’ll be able to.  
  
He’s worried about you, and he’s worried about your brother. He told me about your message last night. I know you must be very hurt that he wasn’t here this morning. That’s why I told you about everything that’s happened. He wants to be here for you, but he’s afraid. He thinks you’re going to push him away. He thinks there’s nothing he can do for you.  
  
But, Hyesung, do you think…even though he’s the one who’s hurt you, and even though he didn’t come for you today, that you can forgive him? I know it’s wrong of me to ask you that, after seeing how badly you’re hurting because of him, but he’s hurting too. And he’s sorry.”  
  
Hyesung ran his fingers through his hair, and leaned forward, slumping over the desk. Eric’s father was right—he was hurting, and he was disappointed, and knowing that Eric had heard his message and still chosen not to show up made it thousands of times worse. Eric had heard the desperation in his voice, and known how badly he was needed, and he still hadn’t shown up.  
  
But, he was also hurting for Eric. Had he been so terrified of being pushed away again that he had run before it could happen? And of course…of course it would be hard…after what happened to Andy.  
  
“Do you think you could give me his address, Mr. Mun? If I go there, do you think he would talk to me?” Hyesung asked, after a long time. His throat was raw from crying, and the voice that left him didn’t even sound like his own.  
  
“He’ll see you, if you go to him. He knows he’s the one who’s wrong,” the pastor said. He pulled a piece of paper toward him, and wrote down the address, quickly. “Thank you, Hyesung. For giving him another chance. We’ll all be praying for your brother.”  
  
Hyesung nodded, and pushed his chair back. He needed to go to Eric quickly, before he lost his nerve.  
  
“Oh, and Hyesung, I remember you from the choir. You have a beautiful voice. Now’s probably not the time, but if you ever want to, in the future, we’d love to have you back.”  
  
Normally, Hyesung would be annoyed—he didn’t like when people encouraged him to sing, even when they meant it nicely, but somehow, from the pastor, it was a comfort. Maybe one day, when Jinnie was better, and things with Eric had started to look up, he might be interested.  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Mun. I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have some long awaited Ricsyung! Yay!


	12. Chapter 12

Hyesung’s hands shook so badly it took several tries to input Eric’s address into the GPS Hyesung had gotten as a gift for his sixteenth birthday. It barely functioned, anyway, and his inability to stabilize his fingers was making it more difficult than it needed to be. He had been nervous that morning, about whether Eric would show up, but this was something more--this was a cold, unshakable anxiety he could barely form a thought through.

Twenty-five minutes, the GPS told him. Twenty-five minutes and he would be at Eric’s house. He had twenty-five minutes to calm himself down, and twenty-five minutes to work through all that Eric’s father had told him. Twenty-five minutes to stop his heart from trying to climb out of his mouth, and to process the story about Andy--Andy, who Eric had never mentioned. Andy, who had apparently played such a huge role in his life.

Tears pricked at Hyesung’s eyes, and he found himself wiping them away with the back of his hand.

It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone who was dead, but he couldn’t help it. Eric was the first person he had ever felt this way about, and it hurt that it wasn’t true in reverse. Eric had been so destroyed over Andy, he hadn’t been able to live normally since he died. Yet, he had never said anything at all about him.

No wonder he had been sad and distant over the past few months. February must have been particularly difficult for him.

Hyesung gripped the steering wheel more tightly. He would have to snap Eric out of it. Somehow. Show him how badly he was needed, and how horribly he was missed.

He was driving fast--afraid he would lose his nerve if he didn’t hurry and get there--it seemed like he wouldn’t have the entire twenty-five minutes he had planned on. Not that it mattered. His thoughts were no more organized by the time he reached the halfway point than they had been before he left. The best he could do was be vulnerable--let Eric see what he was feeling, instead of trying to hide it.

He thought back to what Eric’s father had said: “he knows he’s the one who’s wrong.” A part of him agreed--Eric was the one in the wrong, the one who was hiding. But Hyesung couldn’t help but blame himself. If only he had showed Eric his vulnerabilities sooner. If only he hadn’t been so terrified of letting him in. Maybe they could have been more honest with each other, and Eric would have felt comfortable telling him about Andy. Maybe he wouldn’t have run.

He glanced at the GPS. Three minutes. He would be at Eric’s house in three minutes.

The neighborhood wasn’t nearly as nice as what Hyesung had imagined. It wasn’t as bad as Hyesung’s own neighborhood, of course. Most of the buildings were single family homes, and they had probably all been nice at some point, but that part of the city had been out of fashion for a while and most all of them needed some upkeep.

For some reason, he had imagined Eric in a two-story house with a well-manicured lawn. It didn’t look like he would be finding a home like that in this neighborhood, though. Maybe Eric had just wanted to get as far away from his parents as possible.

His place was on a corner lot. The only apartment building on the street--across from a tiny convenience store. It was just as run down as all of the other buildings. Maybe more so. The lawn definitely wasn’t manicured, either. It had suffered badly from the cold.

Hyesung didn’t waste time sitting in the car. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get out. Instead, he threw it in park and started the daunting walk up to the three story building.

In a couple of short minutes, he would, hopefully, be seeing Eric.

Somehow, the thought allowed Hyesung to smile.

 

* * *

 

Hyesung ran the doorbell, but he couldn’t hear anything inside the apartment. After a couple of minutes of waiting, with his pulse so fast he could feel it in his temples, he decided it was broken and tentatively tried knocking.

Almost immediately, the door flew open.

“Yeah?”

“Um...is Eric home?” for a few terrible seconds Hyesung thought maybe Eric had gone bald over the previous few weeks, but then he remembered his father had mentioned a roommate.

“Of course. Never leaves, lately. Are you Hyesung?” the other man asked, pushing the door open even further. “You must be. Only one of Eric’s friends I haven’t met.”

“Yes…” Hyesung said, barely able to get the word out. He was standing on the threshold of Eric’s apartment. He was really there. Really going to see him.

“You should come in before the dog gets out,” Eric’s roommate said. “He’s in his bedroom. It’s down the hall and to the left. I’d show you, but I have to work. New factory job.”

Hyesung nodded, trying to force a smile onto his face and failing miserably. Unlike him, Eric’s roommate managed a bright smile as he squeezed out of the door, keeping the opening just small enough to prevent the excitable puppy from following him.

“Thanks for coming, by the way. Eric has been really down. He needed to see you. Good luck.” And with that, the roommate disappeared.

Hyesung kicked his shoes off at the door--habit--it didn’t look like Eric or his roommate were too concerned about the cleanliness of the floors. A typical bachelor pad, the apartment was a huge mess. Clothes and dirty dishes everywhere. Although, it did look like at least one of them had recently made an attempt to kick the dirty clothes into one pile.

The dog followed him closely, wagging his tail and yapping excitedly, practically running circles around Hyesung’s legs and making him come close to tripping.

“Ya! Gomdori! Your dad is trying to sleep!”

The dog barked louder, excited by the sound of Eric’s voice. Hyesung’s chest restricted. He could barely breathe. Eric was right behind that door.

“Are you hungry?” the door opened, and Eric was right in front of him--eye-level, and making it very difficult to say who was more shocked.

Hyesung opened his mouth, willing himself to say something and explain why he was standing outside of Eric’s bedroom, uninvited and unannounced.

“Hyesung-ah…are _you_ hungry?” Eric asked, as if it was completely normal. As if he hadn’t disappeared from Hyesung’s life weeks ago, with no explanation whatsoever.

“A little…” Hyesung heard himself respond, before he had even processed what was happening.

“Mind feeding Gomdori? I’ll take a quick shower and we can go to that diner?” Eric’s gaze flickered across Hyesung’s face, and then landed on the wall behind him. He smiled a little, lips curving up at one corner in a beautiful, familiar way.

“Yeah. Sure.”

 

* * *

 

Gomdori’s head rested on Hyesung’s knee, and the puppy’s tongue glanced across the back of his hand. Normally, Hyesung was terrified of dogs, but Gomdori seemed harmless enough. They had known each other for ten minutes, but it seemed like the puppy was trying to comfort him--deflecting his anxiety by being so cute and cheerful.

The shower had been on for a few minutes, and had turned off a while ago, but Eric had never come out. Hyesung wondered, somewhat absently, if he had escaped out of a window to avoid seeing him, despite the footsteps he could still hear.

Gomdori licked his cheek, taking advantage of his distraction.

“Hey, Gomdori,” Hyesung said, smiling in spite of himself and pulling his face away.

“Shouldn’t kiss people you just met, Gomdori,” Eric said from the doorway.

“You should talk,” Hyesung responded, without thinking. He glanced up, gulping automatically at how beautiful Eric looked--in a gray long sleeved t-shirt and dark jeans--hair wet and dripping on his collar. Suddenly, he couldn’t speak at all. He could only swallow, choking on words.

“Good point,” Eric agreed, the corner of his mouth twisting up again in that way that made Hyesung’s stomach tighten. “Should we go? If you’re not careful, I might get a little jealous.”

Hyesung nodded, not knowing what to say. For weeks, Eric hadn’t contacted him, and all of a sudden he was cracking jokes and smiling like nothing had ever happened? On one hand, Hyesung was happy--happy to see Eric happy, and just be in his presence again--on the other, it was painful. How could he smile when the past few weeks had been so horrible and lonely, and he was the one who had disappeared?

“Let’s go, then. You can drive.”

 

* * *

 

Before, when they’d been in the car together, Eric had barely taken his eyes off of Hyesung. Now, he pointedly avoided them, staring out the window in a detached, polite way. As if they were strangers. As if there was something grotesque on Hyesung’s face that Eric was exaggeratedly trying to avoid looking at.

It used to make Hyesung uncomfortable when Eric looked at him so much, so lovingly, but this was worse. A few minutes before, he had been glib and laughing, but the dreary weather seemed to dampen his mood and make him more pensive.

A couple of times Hyesung tried to speak--tried to say anything to fill the silence--but words died before they reached his mouth. Instead, he watched Eric’s left hand, clenching the fabric of his jeans so tightly it looked painful. It was a nervous habit he had often made fun of Hyesung for, and now he was doing it himself.

The weather was foggy, and the windows were covered in a solid coat of steam that the windshield wipers could barely combat. His defrost had been busted for a while, and it did nothing to help. It was difficult enough to see even without focusing on something other than the road, but Hyesung had been to the diner so many times he could have driven there blindfolded.

The parking deck was nearly empty. Not many people had braved the shitty weather on a Sunday for pancakes or window shopping.

Eric drew on the window with his finger, absently. Something that looked like coffee, with steam rising from the cup. Hyesung smiled in spite of himself.

“We should go in…” he said, after a while. He was afraid that if he didn’t speak, Eric would continue drawing for the rest of the day without ever making a move for the door.

“Yeah,” Eric agreed, more quickly than he expected. Before Hyesung could unbuckle his seatbelt, the other man was out of the door and waiting for him.

Eric led the way into the diner, walking very quickly as if he was afraid Hyesung would catch up and try to speak to him. Before the server could seat them, Eric threw himself into the booth closest to the door--ready for a quick getaway.

They ordered without looking at each other, poring over the menu like it was something new they had never seen before, and ordering the same things they always did.

Hyesung thought he would wait for Eric to place his order before he started talking. Then that he would wait for the food to come until he started talking. But he was halfway through choking down a pancake before realizing he was never going to open his mouth unless he forced himself, and Eric seemed perfectly content to eat in silence, never making eye contact.

“So…” he began, glancing at the way the other man was pulling his toast into small pieces, and rearranging them on his plate. Hyesung had always been the type to display those nervous habits, but he would have never thought Eric capable.

Eric didn’t respond, only continued destroying his toast and flinging crumbs around the table.

“Eric...I talked to your father,” he said, finally. He hadn’t actually meant to say it, but the words slipped out so quickly he hadn’t been able to stop them. The last thing he had wanted was for Eric to know he heard about Andy, but he could see in the way the other man folded his hands in his lap, grimly staring down at his plate, that he knew as soon as he heard those words.

“Oh…” he said, simply, not attempting to make eye contact.

“Eric...you could have told me about him. I would have understood...or tried to understand. I didn’t know when I called you about Jinnie. I know that must have been hard for you to hear after...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t,” Eric said, still not looking up from his plate. “How is he?”

“Alive. Confused. I don’t know. When I tried to ask him, he only wanted to talk about you. About us. I’m so scared…” Hyesung said.

“That’s...it’s tough. You know I...it sucks that it happened. That sometimes you have no idea what a person is thinking or feeling…” Eric responded, taking a long time to choose each word, as if afraid of being caught in a trap, or as if he were trying to encode each syllable with a secret message.

“I tried to tell you how I feel,” Hyesung said, after a long pause, hoping the message he’d deciphered was the correct one.

“No. Not when it counted,” Eric said, a bite to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

Hyesung looked down at his own plate, tears forming in his eyes again. Why was he so weak when he was sitting there in front of Eric? Why couldn’t he stand up for himself or prove Eric wrong by telling him how much he needed him?

What Eric said was probably true. Maybe he had lost his chance with him when he didn’t tell Eric how much he loved him back that night. Maybe he would never be able to make up for not saying those words at the correct time.

“Eric~ you said you heard me sing at church before, right?” he said, suddenly.

Eric looked up, surprised, and met his eyes. He nodded.

“Did you know that I used to love singing? More than anything? I used to look forward to choir practice every week. I used to love going to church and being able to use my voice. It was before...before my parents knew...and they were so supportive. They encouraged me to sing, to take voice lessons. Built up my confidence. And singing was a way to show people how I felt, and who I was. It was my only escape,” Hyesung was talking so quickly he was afraid Eric wouldn’t be able to keep up, but if he slowed down he knew he’d lose the courage to finish speaking. “My parents made me quit, when they found out about me...found out I was gay. They were so ashamed of me that they stopped going to church. They couldn’t face everyone when their own son was like this. They made me feel so ashamed, too, like no one at church, and no one in the choir could ever accept me enough to let me sing on their stage again.”

Eric was staring at him, unblinking. The pure outrage in his expression gave Hyesung the confidence to continue.

“After that, I think I started closing myself off. I didn’t have an outlet anymore. I didn’t have any confidence in myself. There wasn’t anything to look forward to, or anything that made me feel so happy. Until I met you…”

Eric responded as if the sentence was a physical blow, shielding his face with his hands.

“Eric...I mean it. I know it’s cheesy and it’s stupid, but I mean it. For the past few months, you’ve been my outlet. You’ve given me confidence in myself again, and you’ve been opening me up and making me share parts of myself that I haven’t shared in...well, some parts of me that I’ve never shared even through singing. I looked forward to every time I would see you. I was happy every time I saw you. I haven’t been able to sing in so long, I haven’t wanted to sing in so long, because I was so ashamed of myself, but you make me want to sing again.” The whole statement was so cringe-worthy, the last sentence especially, that Hyesung felt the blood rushing to his face, as all of his confidence ebbed away.

If that monologue hadn’t gotten through to Eric, then there was no way he could keep trying.

“Hyesung-ah,” Eric said, after what seemed like a very long time.

Hyesung looked up, tentatively.

“We both fucked up, didn’t we? We’re both so stupid. I told you I was in love with you, and then I ran away from you. And you--how was I supposed to know that you cared about me when you were always too afraid to show me, much less say it? I’m really...I’m really sorry. You aren’t the one who left me. It was wrong of me to push you away before you had the chance to hurt me. It was wrong of me to push away the person I love.” Eric pinched the bridge of his nose--the same way his father had, earlier in the day, and smiled weakly at the man across the table.

“I just compared your love to music, Eric, I definitely already knew I was stupid,” Hyesung said. It was probably too soon to feel as if things were on the mend, but his stomach was full of butterflies all over again just because of Eric’s voice and the affirmation that he was still loved.

“Guess you have a point,” Eric said, looking as if he was forcing back a smile. “Let’s go see your brother? Maybe it’ll make him feel better to see me? Not to flatter myself, but…”

“My parents…” Hyesung said, confidence faltering.

“Who cares? I know they’re your parents, but Jinnie is the one who matters. Jinnie is the one who wants to be part of your life,” Eric said, barely brushing Hyesung’s fingers with his own.

Hyesung extended his own fingers, grabbing Eric’s hand.

“It’s things like that, that make me love you, Eric.”

He said it simply, trying not to adorn it too much with flowery language. He didn’t want the meaning of the words to get lost in metaphor. I was important that Eric understood just how deeply he meant those words, and how long he had meant them, holding back until this moment when things were still uncertain.

He felt so vulnerable. He was supposed to feel vulnerable. He was in love and the person in front of him could either crush him or accept him. This was how it was supposed to feel.

But Eric was taking so long to respond. Hyesung chewed his bottom lip, trying to remind himself not to jump too quickly into regret.

“Come here,” Eric said, after a while, pulling Hyesung out of the booth, and putting his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

They had the full attention of the handful of people in the diner--including their server.

Eric leaned in, pressing him against the wall.

“You already know that I love you, too."

 

* * *

 

“Unfortunately, only two visitors are allowed in his room at one time. I would be happy to ask your brother if he would like to see you two, and ask his other guests to wait in the hallway for a while, though,” the nurse said, seeming genuinely distressed about the hospital’s visitation rules.

Hyesung nodded, and agreed to her suggestion, tightening his grip on Eric’s hand.

The drive to the hospital had been less awkward than Hyesung expected. Especially considering how awkward his first time saying “I love you” had been.

But Eric seemed serene about the whole thing. Well, he had seemed serene after he had practically pushed Hyesung through the concrete wall of the diner, kissing him so hard he’d nearly left him concussed.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he would rather see you than your parents,” Eric said, squeezing his hand back just as tightly.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried they won’t let us in there…” Hyesung stopped, seeing the nurse walk out of Jinnie’s room with his parents in tow.

“He wanted to see the two of you right away. He asked his guests to step outside for a few moments,” the nurse said, cheerfully. Apparently, she didn’t notice the tension between the parents and their son.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shin? I’m Eric Mun. I think you used to be part of my father’s congregation?” Eric stuck his hand out. In front of the nurse, Hyesung’s parents had no choice except to shake it.

Hyesung’s mother was so pale, he worried briefly that she was going to faint, before reminding himself that he really shouldn’t care either way. His father, on the other hand, was finding it difficult to string together a sentence.

“Mr...Mr. Mun? Are you here…?” he said, letting go of Eric’s hand as quickly as possible.

“I’m here as a friend of Jinnie’s, and Hyesung’s,” Eric said, taking Hyesung’s hand and squeezing it, lest they misunderstand the nature of his relationship with their older son.

“You...you’re…? Your father…” Hyesung’s father attempted, still unable to finish a sentence.

“My father knows about me, sir. He knows about Hyesung. God isn’t upset with you because of who your son is. Especially when your son is such an amazing person. My father would be happy to talk with you more about this, if you have any questions,” Eric responded, coolly. He gave Hyesung’s hand another squeeze. “We should probably go in, though. Jinnie is waiting on us.”

Only after the door had clicked shut, did Hyesung allow himself a small smile.

“Thought you didn’t believe in God?”

“I don’t,” Eric said, shrugging.

“I guess you didn’t come to see me? Just came to tease me by bickering in the corner of the room where it’s hard to see you?” Junjin asked, clearly annoyed, from the other side of a curtain that was pulled partially around his bed.

“Junjin!” How are you feeling?” Eric asked, pushing past the divider.

“That depends on whether you two are OK again, or if you’re only here to trick me into feeling better,” Jinnie said, adjusting his blankets to cover his arms.

“If you need proof that we’re OK again, try calling the diner next to the parking garage downtown, and asking them if I just kissed your hyung next to a picture of Elvis Presley,” Eric said, taking a seat.

“Eric!” Hyesung scolded, blushing.

“Wow. How dare you tease a sick man. You better start from the beginning,” Junjin said, leaning forward in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's been way longer than anticipated, and way longer than is reasonable, for this chapter to go up. I don't have any excuse, honestly, except that I'm bad under pressure and psyched myself out wanting to make sure I didn't post a chapter that wasn't as good as what people expected. But, whether that's the case or not, I needed to try and finish this eventually, so here's the final chapter! I'm going to post an epilogue as soon as I can, but it's going to be short, and even if I never come through on it I feel like this chapter wrapped up the majority of the loose threads. Thank you so much if you've been with this story from the beginning, and you're still coming back to read this chapter, and thanks if you're just reading this story, without having to wait! I appreciate you all so much, and your kindness and support is the reason I was able to contribute to this fandom for as long as I did. You're the best!


	13. Epilogue

They met in church. 

Hyesung had spent the morning convincing Junjin to leave the warmth of the couch. Eric had spent the hours anxiously glancing at the clock until even Gomdori was annoyed with him. Then, at the last minute, he had decided his outfit wasn’t nice enough, and he had to change.

Both of them were running late that Sunday morning, but neither of them had to stand against the back wall. Eric’s sister had saved a spot on the pew for him and Jinnie. Hyesung’s seat was in the choir. 

Eric wanted to be holding his hand. Even across the distance a pulpit and a church full of people provided, his arm felt attracted to Hyesung’s. 

Eric wasn’t really religious, but the way Hyesung looked with the fractured, vivid light of the stained glass shining on him, made him almost believe in a higher power.

Hyesung normally attended church every Sunday. He had for the past few months. Eric’s father had been trying to convince him to join the choir for almost as long, but this was the first time he had agreed to sing in front of a crowd in years.

Junjin was antsy with anticipation. He hadn’t heard his hyung sing in what felt like an eternity. He distracted himself by playing with the envelopes meant for collections. He slipped one into Eric’s pocket with the prayer line reading, “Roses are red, violets are blue, please no loud sex tonight because I need sleep, too.” 

Hyesung’s parents hadn’t been convinced to attend, despite Junjin’s best efforts. They had let Jinnie move in with his hyung, but that was as far as they were ready to budge. They still couldn’t accept their oldest son--they still wouldn’t let him come home.

Hyesung wasn’t sure he wanted to, anymore. Being with Eric most every day made him happy. If Jinnie, choir practice, and his friends Minwoo and Dongwan, hadn’t tempted him out of bed every day, he would be content to do nothing but wallow in Eric’s warmth forever.

He expected himself to be nervous in front of the congregation, but mostly he was distracted by how lovely Eric looked in the same leather jacket and dark jeans he’d worn almost a year before, when Eric had whisked him away from the church parking lot to have pancakes. 

Eric still thought about Andy a lot. He would tell Hyesung about it, letting the other man hold his hand and nod a lot, still not knowing exactly what to say, but always knowing how to just be there for him--letting him cry when he needed to, or making him a drink when it felt better to just sit there in silence. Hyesung didn’t fill Andy’s space, but he didn’t need to. He had become Eric’s everything.

After church, Jinnie sent his brother and Eric to the diner together, and met up with Minwoo and Dongwan to plan a birthday party. He told Hyesung he didn’t need to see him and Eric be gross together in a public space for the ninetieth time, but he felt giddy and warm and relieved and happy every time he saw them hold hands under the table, or glance at each other and smile. It was good, it felt good, to have those sorts of warm, happy thoughts again. It felt good to have something to plan, too, and things to look forward to.

At the diner, Eric didn’t miss a single chance to wipe syrup off of Hyesung’s lips and make him blush. Hyesung didn’t miss a chance to sneak his hand up Eric’s thigh under the table.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the first time for either of them, but Hyesung thought it felt different. Every single time was perfect. Most every time, he fell asleep with his head nuzzled firmly into Eric’s chest. And Eric always silenced his phone so his Hyesung-ie could get some sleep. He tried to never miss a chance to watch how he pursed his lips as if in concentration, even though he claimed to never remember his dreams.

“Ya...watching me sleep again?” Hyesung said, groggily wrapping a leg around Eric’s waist.

“So cute. Your little snores,” Eric teased, ruffling his hair even though he knew Hyesung hated it.

Hyesung frowned, tightening the leg around Eric’s waist, trying bury his face in the other man’s shoulder before he saw the frown turn into a smile.

“Such a creep,” he complained, lips moving against the sensitive space above Eric’s collarbone as he spoke. 

Eric laughed and pulled Hyesung’s face up close to his, planting a kiss firmly on his lips.

“I love you, Hyesung-ie.” 

“Love you too,” Hyesung said--so sincerely he thought his heart would burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long since I wrote the beginning of this story, I thought it would be fun to pull back a lot of the imagery from the beginning to tie up the epilogue. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! I appreciate all of you, and your encouragement has meant the world to me.


End file.
